Against The Tides
by mjade24
Summary: The story of Finnick and Annie and the relationship that develops between them after Annie wins the 70th Hunger Games and up to the 75th HG, possibly more. Considering the two main characters here, it's also angst/hurt/comfort.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70****th**** Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

* * *

><p>Chapter One: The Winner<p>

He looks at the television, his eyes fix on her face. They finally pull her up out of the water, her body wrecked. So skinny. So fragile. But despite all the disparaging concern on her physical appearance, that isn't what concerns Finnick most. It is her mental condition. He can see it on her face, through the tangled mass of hair that almost completely covers the dark pockets in which her eyes lay. Wild. Confused. Terrified. That's what her eyes reflect back to him. He had prepared her physically and helped her thought process for the games, but he didn't do enough to prepare her mentally for what she was going to go through. He didn't even know it himself.

Annie Cresta had just won.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to present the victor of the Seventieth Hunger Games, Annie Cresta! I give you the tribute of District Four!" Claudius Templesmith's voice booms throughout the training center and all over the Capitol and the cheers roar throughout The Capitol. He can hear it on the television screen as well as through the windows of the room they're in.

Finnick Odair should be elated. He should be cheering with everyone else. He is Annie's mentor, after all. But he just feels numb. It isn't until Haymitch Abernathy pats him on the back does he even remember where he is.

"Congratulations, Odair. Don't forget to smile," Haymitch says in a low, impassive voice, reminding Finnick that he still has a persona to keep. That he needs to act his part and give his winning and sensuous smile to the Panem crowd once the cameras focus on him. And they are often focusing on him, especially in the Capitol.

He can't let anyone know how he truly feels about this whole thing. His dislike for the Capitol and the citizens here was solidly established ever since he became a victor, but has heightened yet again this time around. He loathes coming here, but he knows if he doesn't, if he chooses to defy the orders that are given to him, someone else will get hurt for his disobedience. He can't risk it anymore. President Snow could easily have him killed, but he won't. Snow still knows that Finnick is very valuable to him, and he still has some leverage to hold against him. Turlach, Finnick's brother, is the only family Finnick has left.

They could still destroy his home if they really want to. They definitely have the power to, as they routinely remind the districts of it every year.

"So, Finnick, how does it feel to have a new victor from your district?" asks some preposterously dressed Capitol reporter who happened to be standing right behind Finnick when Claudius' announcement was made over the television screens all around them.

Finnick closes his eyes for a moment, readying himself to face the people. When he turns around, a camera lens and microphone are already pointing directly at him. "Well, it's no surprise, really," Finnick says with appealing confidence. "Annie is one of the finest tributes we've had since, well, me!"

They laugh, although Finnick's is forced, but nobody notices. Everything for Finnick in the Capitol is forced. Luckily, because it was his tribute that won, he is able to use that to excuse himself from a long line of questioning. He is to now begin the process of getting everything set for Annie and the sponsors and going over the interview procedures and questions with Caesar Flickerman.

It will be about an hour before Annie arrives from where they picked her up in the arena. He makes his way to the elevators of the Training Center, and sees Haymitch there, probably waiting for him.

"Looks like you have your work cut out for you this time, Odair," Haymitch says without so much as a glance toward Finnick's direction.

"I know," Finnick said, keeping his eyes straight ahead as well.

"So, you saw it?" Haymitch asked.

Finnick lowered his eyelids, his face stern. "Yeah, I saw it."

To the public's eyes, it wasn't noticeable, but for those that have been there in the arena, to those that have trained other tributes, it's easy to spot. The wildness in Annie's eyes that Finnick concerned himself with just a few minutes earlier was unmistakable to Haymitch as well. She was damaged, possibly beyond repair, and it is going to be Finnick's job to somehow get her to find her way back to sanity. Yes, Finnick knows he has his work cut out for him.

"Well, at least she's alive," Haymitch says. "Good thing you know how to be a mentor."

"You know, your tributes could use a mentor, too," Finnick shoots back, but not in anger. He knows Haymitch well enough to know that he wouldn't be offended. For five years now, he had seen how Haymitch was with the tributes in District 12. They almost never stood a chance in the arena. Haymitch was too often drunk to rally any support for his tributes, but every once in a while, he would try a little if he thought his tributes stood a chance. But Finnick figured out that Haymitch didn't help with anything else.

Still, Finnick understands him. Haymitch isn't completely deplorable. Sure, he's not the best mentor; actually, he's the worst there is. But for some reason, Haymitch has been a constant source of… friendship? Finnick isn't quite sure if that's the word for his and Haymitch's relationship, but he knows that if they were in a battle, he would want Haymitch on his side. He had seen a video of Haymitch of when he won the 50th Hunger Games. Haymitch was one of the best he ever saw, and he wasn't even a Career. Haymitch was, and still is, surprisingly smart. Not only that, but Haymitch seems to know how to make Finnick feel better, probably because behind all that surliness, Finnick knows he could trust him.

"When there's one that has the guts to stand up to me, I'll consider it," Haymitch says, then laughs out loud. Finnick knows Haymitch gave up on mentoring a long time ago, well before Finnick was even eligible for the games. After Finnick had become a victor, he told himself he would never give up on whoever he had to mentor. Mags certainly didn't give up on him. But Mags did confess to him it was going to be easy to get support because of his looks anyway, so of course she didn't give up on him. Not everyone who was a tribute had that luxury, and even when they did, they didn't have the skills he had with a trident. His years with his mom and dad on the fishing boat definitely helped.

Since District 4 had a good amount of victors, they had the ability to do random drawings for the mentors as well. That was how he got Mags as a mentor. Of course, the mentors' drawings were done prior to Reaping Day. This was only the second time Finnick had to mentor someone. The first person he mentored was for the 66th Hunger Games, the following year after his victory. The boy was 13 years old and he was all kinds of scared. To have that boy's family stare painfully at him when he returned to District 4 victorless made him cringe at the thought of having to mentor another. It's no wonder that Haymitch was the way he was. Haymitch had been a mentor to two tributes for 20 years in a row, without anyone to take his place. If he had to mentor tributes as often as Haymitch did, maybe he would have given up after a few years also.

Being that he was from District 4, he was a career tribute, along with Districts 1 and 2. At one point, District 4 even had all 12 houses in the Victor's Village occupied with victors. Finnick was the most recent victor, until this year, exactly five years later.

Annie Cresta. He actually couldn't believe she had won. It really was only by chance. Obviously the gamemakers hadn't anticipated it. They probably had only meant for the earthquake the bring some of them out of hiding, but something went wrong and the dam had broken. The remaining tributes who were still alive at that point didn't know how to swim, except Annie. Finnick has a feeling that at least one gamemaker isn't going to be gamemaker for long, and most likely isn't going to be alive either.

Finnick thinks back to the day he first officially met Annie. Reaping Day. It was never quite as anticipated as those outside of District 4 made it out to be. No one ever really wanted to be a tribute, not like those in 1 and 2, especially District 2. But if they were called, they were expected to be a proud representative of their district. District 4 was, after all, said to be the most beautiful of all the districts in Panem. And Finnick not only represented the district, but he was the personification of 4 in beauty and strength. Their tributes were career tributes, expected to form alliances with those from 1 and 2. Most of the victors hailed from one of these three districts.

But the past few years, the District 4 tributes were less resilient, less confident. Annie was no exception. Finnick already saw the fear in her eyes when she walked her way down the path to the stage. She looked around, her big sea-green eyes wide, as if begging with them for someone to take her place. No one would, of course. Her hair, long and dark and straight, was clipped nicely in a little barrette that someone had probably given to her. Her clothes were nothing special, not like some of the other girls whose families could afford at least one nice dress for their daughter. She only had a plain, frumpy and formless dress that looked like it had been worn by so many other girls. Finnick promptly concluded she was from the community home. Those in the community home were kids either with no parents or guardians, or if they did have parents, they were regarded as unfit to take care of them. Being that she was from the community home, he hoped she would have some kind of fight in her, but the way she looked, he didn't think the odds were in his favor that he would be so lucky.

"Annie…Cresta, is it?" asked Finnick, in a playful manner, giving her a flirtatious smile, when he entered the dining car of the train, where she already was.

She didn't look his way, even though Finnick's face was inches from her. Didn't even flinch. She just stared out the window of the train in her plain dress, her eyes no longer wide with fear, her face expressionless. Normally, he could at least make a girl blush when he spoke like that, especially when he was so close to his target, so he was a bit surprised that she didn't so much as acknowledge him.

"Your dinner's getting cold," Finnick then said. "You wouldn't want it to go to waste, would you?"

For a second, he thought Annie was just going to stand in that position for the duration of the trip. But eventually she moved her way to the dinner table and ate as much as possible without regard to him or anyone else.

_Well_, he thought, _that's a start at least._

He waited for her to finish her food before he started talking again. Annie didn't utter a word to him ever since they got on the train, so there was no point in trying to get her to talk with her mouth full. She finally looked at him after she finished her last spoonful of chocolate cake, wiping the bit of chocolate that was around her lips with the back of her hand. Finnick just smiled with as much charm as he could muster.

"What now?" Annie finally said.

Her voice sounded a little deeper than he thought it would be. He had imagined her voice to sound somewhat meek and high-pitched. Not as high as the women in the Capitol with their weird accent, but something like that. No. Annie's voice had a nice quality about it.

"What do you mean?" asked Finnick calmly.

"What happens now? Are you going to be the one training me? Are you-"

"Wait, hold on. Let's talk first, okay?" said Finnick. He leaned back against his chair and smiled. He tried to see if he could get her to open up, so he tilted his head forward a bit and smiled, the same way he did to all the women at the Capitol. The same way that made them blush and give in and tell him all the things they're supposed to keep to themselves.

But Annie stared down at her empty plate and frowned. "I don't want to talk."

Finnick knew this was a crucial moment. He was her mentor and he had to ensure trust in her. He had to make her believe he would do his best to help keep her alive. He had to get her to open up to him and see that he was on her side. If not, then she was as good as a District 12 tribute under Haymitch's care. He sighed and realized that maybe there was only one way to get through to her.

He began his own story about when he was a tribute. He never told anyone about it. People would always ask, mostly the Capitol women. He would spin elaborate tales about himself and how he knew he was going to win and what exactly his thought process was and how he could smell the fear in his fellow tributes. They were all parts of the truth, but never the whole truth. But here he was, telling Annie everything exactly how it happened. How he felt when he was chosen as a tribute 5 years ago. How scared he was about it and how Mags, his mentor, was there with him 100% of the way, coaching him on how to act and what to say and who to be. He told Annie that he was going to be there for her just as Mags was there for him. 100% of the way.

After Finnick poured all this out to her, Annie looked at him again. He thought he saw just a flicker of sentiment in them, but she turned her head before he looked further. He sighed. He had hoped that she would have seen his honesty in his story, but maybe all she saw was the person that he always played to the cameras and the people in the Capitol. He thought that maybe he should've played that person. It probably wouldn't have made a difference, and it probably would've spared him the realization that he just poured out his soul to a total stranger.

Without looking at him, she said, "Okay."

"Okay? Okay what?" Finnick asked.

"Just okay. And don't look at me like that," she told him.

"What do you mean?" he asked, somewhat innocently. She turned her head, her eyes focused on him. He remembered her sea-green eyes staring hard into his own, holding his gaze. For the first time, he saw in her determination.

"Don't do that thing you do, where you smile and talk to me as if I'm a piece of meat for you to devour! If you want to help me, then help me stay alive!" she said, with each word louder than the one before. Finnick's expression was at first surprise, then offense, then acceptance. He had already told her his story. There was no need to try and play her like he had done so often with other women.

Annie Cresta wasn't some woman he needed to woo or sway in his direction. She wasn't just some girl wanting his attention because of his looks or his popularity. No, Annie needed him to keep her alive. He was her lifeline. He was all she had. For Annie's sake. Because it wasn't just about him now. It was about her. It was about keeping Annie focused and perfected and even angry enough to stay alive.

The fake smile faded and his face hardened, as if becoming a brutal twin of himself. Strong, harsh, ambitious. At that moment, he looked like a career still in the games. Ready to fight, ready to kill. Annie leaned back against her chair, her mouth opened a bit in surprise of the sudden change. Finnick smiled again, not to toy with her emotions, but to agree with her.

"Okay, no more games," Finnick said. "At least not from me."

From that point forward, from the time they arrived in the Capitol to the time that she entered the arena, he was there with her every step of the way, as much as he could physically be there. When he wasn't, he made sure to remind her everything he taught her, from what to say in her interview to what to learn in the training sessions to what to do in her private session with the gamemakers.

The District 4 escort also tried to help Annie as much as she could with the proper etiquettes of ladylike mannerisms. For the people of Panem, these things were too important to ignore. Annie had to get them to like her, but she also had to be beautiful to do it. She had to play down to their standards if she was going to get any kind of support from them. Her interview seemed boring at first, but when Caesar Flickerman, the interviewer, confirmed that Annie was from the district's community home, that knowledge played to the sympathy of Panem.

Finnick knew that information would get some "aww's", but he also knew he was still going to have to work his own magic to actually get the donations Annie would need to survive in the arena. And he did exactly that. Once Annie was in the arena, he turned on the charm and smiled and flirted his way through to everyone that gave him the attention, which of course were mostly women. It was all about him, really. They wanted him to see they were interested in what he was interested in. If that meant giving donations for his tribute, they would do it just to spend five minutes gazing on his face, his torso, his whole body. It didn't matter if the women were 17 or 71 years old, they were willing to give whatever they could just to see Finnick smile at them.

It worked. For 10 days the flirting, the smirks, and the gentle touches he gave to his adoring admirers worked wonders. Annie was getting a fair amount of the donations in the arena. So much so that she was able to share it with her fellow tribute from 4, Lev Shuster, as well as three careers from 1 and 2. That is, until the careers from 2 decided that Lev wasn't worth their time anymore and decapitated him right in front of Annie. That's when everything started falling apart. Had the careers known what was going to proceed, had they known what kind of effect this would have on Annie, they might have waited for a later time to kill Lev. Annie didn't just gawk. She didn't just scream. She didn't just panic. Something happened to her once Lev's body hit the ground.

Annie Cresta ceased to be sane.

The camera focused solely on her face and the expression in her eyes was not that of an angry person. They were of a madwoman. At that moment, in the middle of one of Finnick's flirtations to a donor, he stopped as he glanced at the screen, which brought everyone else around him to a stop as well. They all watched the scene unfold before them in the arena and they knew, just as well as he did, once she ran off, that the odds were no longer in his favor, as far as mentors go. Annie Cresta was not going to survive.

The few days after that event, the cameras didn't show Annie as much. She was in hiding, and only every so often they would take a glimpse at her. For Finnick, it was painful to watch his tribute waste away into a clutter of tangled hair and tears. For the people of the Capitol, it was just boring. They might've felt some kind of compassion for her during her interview, but Finnick was kidding himself if he thought he could convince anyone to continue supporting her after she freaked out. It wasn't about her. It was about him, and the attention he was giving them. They really didn't care whether she lived or died if she wasn't going to be entertaining. They really just wanted Finnick Odair, not Annie Cresta. But with Annie the way she was, they weren't about to give much support to someone as useless and unengaging as her, not even for Finnick. He had failed her and didn't realize it until now, with no one but the other mentors around him.

_Maybe I will join Haymitch in a drink after she dies_, he thought. But she didn't die. The gamemakers didn't wait too much longer for her to come out of hiding. She ended up being the last one standing, or swimming in this case.

Now Finnick has to prepare for the aftermath of her victory. Annie's arrival back to the Training Center. The victory banquet for the sponsors. The three hour recap of the Hunger Games… Finnick's heartbeat quickens.

_Will she be able to handle this part now_, he asks himself. He doesn't know, not without taking a better look at her in person. Not without looking into her eyes, the ones that were so full of determination only a couple of weeks ago. What he does know is that whatever the case may be, he's going to be there for her. He has to, because he's her mentor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70****th**** Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

Chapter 2: All over again

Five days.

That's how long it took for them to finally release Annie from her bed, from her restraints, from her plug. She had been so hysterical the first two days, they kept putting her under. On the fifth day, Finnick finally had enough of it and told them that she couldn't get any better if they continued drugging her, so they removed the tubes from her arms.

Normally, they would have the victor get up and out of bed on her own to find her team, but Annie's reactions so far since her return from the arena caused them to rethink their idea. Finnick and both Annie's escort and stylist are all allowed to be at her bedside when she wakes up from her stupor for the last time. Annie cries hysterically for several minutes and they are all there to comfort her.

"It's okay."

"You're alive."

"You won, Annie."

"You're done with it."

"We can go home soon," Finnick says assuringly. Softly.

Annie's mind focuses on those words. It's those words that bring her back from whatever dark place her mind was being held in. It is only then that she feels the touch of their hands on her. It is the first time since before going into the arena that anyone tries to physically comfort her before going into the arena. Before the train ride. The last time someone touched her like that was her dad at the justice building in District 4.

Annie's mother died when she was 10 years old and her father could no longer care for her when he suffered a shark attack that severed his arm. There was no concealing that type of injury; her father had to be sent to the medical center. After the third night in the hospital, the staff called the peacekeepers to send her to the community home. She was never able to move back in with her father after that. He would visit her any chance he got, but his visits were less and less frequent with the passing of time. Eventually, the mess of a father that she had would only come to visit for a few minutes during special occasions, which wasn't often. Of course, her name being called in the reaping was a special enough occasion for him to visit her in the justice building before she left for the Capitol.

"I'm sorry," her father said. "Maybe… maybe…"

"It doesn't matter, dad," Annie said, her arms wrapped around her father, who smelled of rotting fish. She didn't care, though. She was just happy to see him. He had been working as a janitor at the cannery since he could no longer go out to sea himself. It was a job only one person could live off of. "I love you, dad."

"I love you, too, my Annie," her father said. Then the peacekeepers took him out of the room. She had no other visitors.

Annie's senses start coming slowly back to her again. The sense of touch is the first, with Finnick's arms around her shoulders. She only realizes she is hugging him back when she releases herself from him.

"Home soon," Annie repeats. Her stylist and escort laugh with a sigh of relief at the words that Annie speaks, as if it's a sign that Annie is going to recover quite splendidly. Finnick does not join in their joy, and Annie feels comfort in him, at least for now. At least for today.

When Annie is finally able to make her way out bed, her stylist and prep team make her as presentable as possible for what's to come. The highlights ceremony. She is reminded of what she will have to sit through and it takes so much strength for her to control her emotions during the prepping, that when her team is finally done and she looks in the mirror, her eyes glazing back at her, she can't stop the tears from breaking through the thin-veiled wall in her mind. They come gushing forth uncontrollably. Her prep team is in hysterics as well, unsure of what to do and her escort comes in, frantic.

A doctor finally comes in the room with Finnick following, and before Finnick can object, Annie is injected with something, not to knock her out, but only to calm her down. They place Annie back in the prep chair, and Finnick pushes the doctor away, squatting down to face her. Annie is calm, all right, but she is also unavailable to the world, in some drug-induced haze between consciousness and unconsciousness. No doubt, the Capitol is anxious. They want to see the victor and they want to see more of the games, and the president wants Annie there, regardless of the state that she's in. No amount of pleading from Finnick will prevent them from continuing with the show. But he knows that at least now, she probably won't be coherent during the show, so Caesar will forego many of the questions, if any, and go straight to the highlights of the games.

"Annie," Finnick says. Her eyes are elsewhere, so he pushes her face in his direction, forcing her eyes to his. "Annie, listen to me. I'm right here. Whatever happens, just keep your eyes on me, and we'll get through this. Do you understand?"

Annie blinks slowly, her mind barely registering the face in front of her. She sees his lips move, but only hears a murmur. She knows he is trying to say something to her, and she suspects Finnick is repeating himself now.

"Annie … liste … ere … eyes on me … derstand?" Annie finally nods.

Annie doesn't know how she got there, but Caesar Flickerman is there again, standing and making some humorous comments about things she's having a hard time comprehending. Her mind races to find out why she's there. _The games are over, aren't they?_ The fog in her head clears somewhat, but she's having a hard time gathering the scene around her. When she looks around, she sees him. Off to the side, Finnick Odair is looking at her, and it looks like he's been trying to get her attention for a while. He is patting his hand to his chest and saying something to her. _Look at me_. That's what she gathers after several attempts at reading his lips.

Caesar is still chattering away, unaware that Annie isn't paying attention to him at all. But when the lights dim, both Annie and Finnick become distracted by the Capitol seal appearing on the screen. The first part of the highlights, Annie sits there watching. The drugs in her system don't prevent her from registering what was being shown, but they do prevent her from seeing images of herself as her. For Annie, she is watching this film unveil as if it isn't her, but someone else. Someone familiar, but not her.

Then the highlights segue into the arena, and Annie stiffens. To her, it looks real and now, almost too real. The smell of the arena comes into her mind, lingering and pestering her. The scenes cause a flicker of images to pulse through her from a first person point of view. Was she there? She knows she was, but the haze is confusing her, making her question everything that she's seeing on the screen. Images in her mind are now pounding her, as if each flicker is pushing deeper and deeper into her heart, beating faster and faster. She doesn't know what's going on anymore and once the screams in the highlights start to emerge, Annie's voice breaks through a wall of silence into a trumpet of sound. Her scream matches that of the scream sounding out in the highlights. Her hands cover her ears to stop the sounds, but the sounds are inside her head now. There's no stopping it.

When Annie opens her eyes, she finds herself lying on her back. Finnick is holding her hand, with concern written all over his face. The flirty smile that often produces itself on his face is taken over by a frown that not even Finnick's beauty can hide. The highlights are still being shown somewhere in a different area, but Annie can still hear it, and as the tears swell in her eyes, her hands again move against her ears. Finnick immediately pulls her up to her feet.

"Look at me. Look at me!" Finnick demands, grabbing her attention. "Now listen to my voice."

Annie is still not as clear-minded as she would be without the drugs, but she complies. It takes all the strength she has to do it, but she does because she's able to comprehend one that. That if she doesn't listen to Finnick, the only person she feels comfortable with at that moment, he will be taken away from her. She will not let that happen.

"Okay," Annie whispers, her eyes drowsily look at him.

"Okay, when I tell you to, close your eyes and think of something good. Think of…" Finnick pauses, unsure of what she can possibly think of that will be good. All he knows about her is that she's from the community home. He suddenly realizes he doesn't know much more than that. All this time that they've been here in the Capitol training, it dawns on him that he doesn't really know much about who she is aside from what she could do to fight and what he could do to keep her alive. A pang of guilt hits him in his chest.

"The beach," Annie says, her eyes already closed. "The sand on the beach." Finnick lays his hands on her shoulders.

"Yes, the beach. The soft sand and smell of the sea and the breeze gently blowing on your face, through your hair. The sun on the horizon as it sets. Picture it in your head. Have you got it?" Finnick's voice is now as calm as the lapping waves on the shore in her head. She sees it, clearly. Annie nodds.

Finnick continues to speak to her, and holds her hands to lead her to an empty chair where he has her sit down.

"Now, don't open your eyes until you feel comfortable enough to do so, okay, Annie?"

"Okay," she says in a relaxed tone.

Finnick counts the minutes that pass as he waits for her. The highlights are finally almost done because he can hear the sound of the earthquake rumbling and the gasps of the audience during what he determines to be when the tidal wave hit.

"Finnick!" Annie utters.

When he looks down at Annie, her face has lost all relaxation and is creased with a frown, her eyes still closed, but tightly. Her nails dig into the soft, leather armrests of the chair and he immediately takes hold of her shoulders again.

"Remember, we're going to be home soon. You'll be able to feel the breeze on your face again. To smell the ocean air, right?" he asks, but comes out more like a factual statement.

"Yes," she says, a few tears forcing themselves out of the corners of her closed eyes. He hopes they are the last of her tears for now. He really doesn't want her being tranquilized again.

She does get through to the end of the highlights, despite not being on stage anymore. Caesar Flickerman effortlessly gives some closing words and ends the evening without a hitch. Caesar doesn't even bother with finding out what happened to Annie, because it's not quite so unusual. Finnick knows it's happened a few times before. Some victors are just not strong enough to deal with the aftermath of surviving the games, and he wonders if Annie is going to be able to get through.

Even Finnick finds it hard to get through many nights. He often wakes up from nightmares of those killed by him in the arena, their agonized faces imprinted into his memory. Often times, even after he jars himself awake and opens his eyes, the images are still there, not fading fast enough. It would take an hour or more for him to finally fall back asleep, but it always ends up being a restless night. A night filled with pain, guilt, and grief for his victims. He was never able to show his true emotion during the games, but even now he would still hide the pain from many of those that think they know him.

"Finnick?" Annie says, her voice all of a sudden sounding less grief stricken. Finnick looks at her and sees her face harden. "I want to go home. Now."

"We will. Very soon."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70****th**** Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3: Waiting<p>

Finnick wakes up to the swaying of the ocean waves. He had anchored his boat a few miles off shore to spend some time alone. It isn't that he can't spend time at home alone, but he always seems to get distracted there. Either by things he felt he needed to do or just knowing that there were people around. And it isn't that he doesn't like people in general, despite having only a few trustworthy friends. The ocean just always seemed to calm him down. And he needed to calm down.

There is still about a week left until the Victory Tour. It's Annie's Victory Tour, and of course Finnick is to accompany her, along with the rest of Annie's team which includes her escort Tessa, stylist, and prep team. They will be going to each district and Annie is going to have to make a speech in front of all of them. Given her inconsistent emotions the days after the games ended, Finnick isn't sure what her state of mind has been lately and could only assume they haven't gotten better. He only hopes they haven't gotten worse.

Ever since they returned from the Capitol about six months ago, Annie had been avoiding him. After Annie had first moved into her new home in the Victor's Village, Finnick tried to visit her, to see how she was doing, but she refused. After several attempts, it became evident to him that she no longer needed or wanted his help. He didn't question it. He knew that each victor dealt with the ramifications of such an event in their life as the Games in their own way. Some are proud of their accomplishment. Some are shameful. And some are indifferent. Usually, all are just glad to be alive. But even being alive has its consequences. Annie is a prime example of that.

Annie may have come out of there physically whole, but mentally, she's broken. Finnick knows that, and so does his friend from District 12. Haymitch Abernathy is in a similar boat as Annie - whole, but not all there. People always lose a part of themselves in the arena, a part of what makes them the person they are, or at least had been. Most of the time, losing an intangible part of your body is more devastating than losing a tangible part. At least, that's how it is for most of the districts' victors. Many people in this state of mind usually have something or someone to turn to. For Haymitch, it's alcohol, basically because he has nothing, and no one else, to turn to.

Finnick supposed that was always part of the Capitol's agenda for the districts. He concluded the idea was for the victors to suffer more than those who died in the arena. Another method of reminding those who dared defy the Capitol, that even if you happened to be career, you were still to pay for your misdeeds. Haymitch said that, but not in so many words. Finnick had a feeling about it though, and Haymitch just confirmed it for him.

At least Finnick still has his brother. Turlach Odair is the older of the two and was 18 years old when Finnick was picked as a tribute 5 years ago. Turlach was no doubt upset at the thought of 14 year old Finnick going out there and possibly getting killed. Turlach loved his brother, of course. He would've never wanted him to get killed, and would've probably volunteered if he was confident enough to think he'd get out of the arena alive. But Turlach wasn't. Finnick was. Finnick had all the veracity, all the physicality, all the appeal of a victor that Turlach never considered himself a good enough replacement to represent District 4. Their father had taught them the skills of fishing and spearing and throwing, and Finnick took in those skills admirably. So admirably, in fact, that Turlach was at times jealous of his younger brother. Still, Finnick's likable charm always softened Turlach's heart and they often ended up talking or joking late into the night, up until their mom or dad yelled at them to go to sleep.

Even now, through all the trials they've had to endure the past few years, their relationship stood fast. They are not only brothers, they are best friends. Turlach ended up living in Finnick's house in the Victor's Village, even though Turlach originally argued against it, but Finnick wouldn't have any of it. He insisted that Turlach move in, along with their parents, or he wouldn't move into the Victor's Village either. Their parents were more than delighted to make the move. It was only when Finnick threatened to not do so, did Turlach finally give in.

When their parents were both killed in a supposed boating accident, Turlach knew that he couldn't leave now. Finnick and Turlach were the only ones left of their family. Mags, Finnick's mentor during his time in the games, became somewhat of a surrogate mother to them. Luckily, she only lived next door to Finnick's house, so it was easy enough for her to look on them once in a while. In fact, she looked in on them every day, checking that they ate enough, that the house wasn't in complete ruins, and, Finnick speculated, that they were still alive. _Forever my mentor_, he thought.

Turlach sometimes felt that Mags was being just a bit too conspicuous, as if she was spying on them instead of helping them. But Finnick knew better. During the time that she was his mentor, she learned about him, about his strengths and his weaknesses. She said Finnick had to be open and honest with her in order for her to keep him alive, and he did just that. She opened up to him as well, just as Finnick did with Annie. Turlach didn't understand because he never had to open himself up to anyone outside of his immediate family before, but he let Mags come and go as she pleased, mostly because Finnick appreciated her. Also because Mags did help them both out after their parents died, in their grief and in their survival of it. For Finnick, their parents' death was one of the worst tragedies he had ever experienced in his life, which was saying a lot considering what he had to do in the arena. Turlach later admitted that he thought Finnick would've thought killing all those tributes during the games would've made him less sensitive to death. It actually came as a surprise and a relief to Turlach that he was wrong about Finnick in that situation.

Now it is Finnick's turn to wonder how the games have affected Annie. Unfortunately, without her cooperation, Finnick isn't going to get any closer to helping her. Despite the fact that Annie doesn't seem to want his help, he still wants to help her. He just doesn't know how exactly to get her to see that.

He dives into the water, immersing himself in the silence of the sea before jumping back onto his boat. This is what he wants. It isn't true silence, of course. The depths of the ocean have their own kind of sound to them, like music of the sea. He loves how he feels in the water, so fluid in motion, as if he's in a different world away from his own, away from the harshness of the land. Away from the nightmares that keep him restless at night. Away from the shallowness of the people he once thought he wanted attention from.

Yes, he's grateful to be in District 4. He had seen how other districts lived when he was on his own Victory Tour. He had seen the hardened look on the people's faces, and the sorrow he had put upon those families of the tributes he killed. But there was nothing he could do for them anymore, and nothing he could say to make things better. He made his scripted speeches in each district, keeping his eyes strictly on the paper or at some spot in the distance beyond the crowd. It was the only thing he could do to keep from revealing his true emotion and displaying regret for what he had done in the arena. For what he was forced to do to stay alive.

Then there was the big banquet at the Capitol, where President Snow had welcomed him. After his tour through each district, he felt weak and emotionally tired from all that he had seen. The last thing he wanted to do was entertain the shallow-minded citizens of the Capitol, but he did. He pushed his emotions aside and perfected his act, just like he did in the arena, and everyone loved him all the more for it. He was what those at the banquet considered the perfect model victor.

Finnick stays in the water as long as he can without air, then breaks the surface, taking in a deep needful breath. He glances over to where he sees the beach. Along the beach, he can see the row of houses on the west side of the village. He didn't yet clear all the water from his eyes, but he thinks he sees someone standing on their balcony, looking in his direction. He quickly gets himself up on his boat and looks again towards the balcony while drying off. Whoever was there did not stay there, but the doors to the balcony are still open because he can see the curtains moving just inside the entry. He knows exactly whose house it belongs to. Annie Cresta.

Annie's house is across the green from his house. From this side, he has a clear view of the back part of her house. The balcony on the second floor of the house connects to the main bedroom. He only knows this because all the houses in Victor's Village were built the same, with only a few slight differences in color. The windows are tinted so that anyone standing on the outside won't be able to see inside. Every once in a while, he would catch her standing there, and even though he's too far from the shore to know if she was actually looking at him, he still tried to grab her attention with a wave of his hand. She had yet to wave back.

Even when he doesn't see anyone there, sometimes he feels as if Annie is peering out from one of her windows, looking out toward him. He doesn't put much thought into the idea, though. Annie, after all, has not attempted to contact him.

But now, with the Victory Tour looming over their heads, regardless of whether she ever wants to talk or see him again, they are going to have to face each other. It's mandatory for the victor's team to be involved throughout the whole tour, so he'll be accompanying Annie and the rest of the team through each of the districts.

"Have a nice swim?" Turlach asks as Finnick enters the kitchen through the back door, where Turlach is cooking up a freshwater trout for lunch.

"Nice enough," Finnick says.

"Did you see her?"

"Who?"

"You know who. Annie," Turlach says matter-of-factly.

"Not sure. But I will," Finnick says, hinting at the impending reunion with her and her team. Turlach nods in acknowledgement.

"She'll come around," assures Turlach.

"Not likely. It's been six months. What would be her reason after all this time?" asks Finnick, not understanding exactly why Turlach would think that.

Turlach knows his brother cares about others more than he lets on. Maybe it's because of what Finnick had to change into since becoming a tribute that he feels the need to keep that persona going, at least outside of his circle of close friends, which surprisingly enough given his popularity in the Capitol, isn't many. Turlach knows what his brother did in the Capitol each year, even though they never really talked about it. From what has beem seen in the television, Finnick made his way around with several women. He knows it isn't by Finnick's choice, but he also knows that for Finnick, there was no other choice.

What worries Turlach, though, is the idea that with each year that passes, Finnick may get so lost in that false identity that he will lose the identity that he grew up with. The one that their parents knew. The one that Turlach still knows. Maybe even Mags knows that Finnick, too. But outside of that circle, he knows no one else had seen the true Finnick. The one that hopes for better things to come.

Turlach shrugs. "I don't know," he finally says. "For one thing, you helped save her life."

"Yeah, I guess so. But maybe she doesn't see it that way," Finnick suggests.

"How does she see it, then?" Turlach asks. Finnick turns to look at his brother, tries to come up with some obviously thought out answer, but he can't come up with one. Finnick just shakes his head. "Well, maybe you can ask her in a few days. She can't ignore you then, right?" Turlach jabs at Finnick's shoulder in a sign of brotherly affection and takes off for the cannery again, leaving Finnick alone with his thoughts.

In a few days. Yes, in a few days, Finnick and Annie will be off on a train with the Capitol escort, her stylist, and prep team to 'celebrate' Annie's victory. Finnick isn't particularly looking forward to the actual tour, and he can only guess that Annie isn't necessarily jumping up and down with excitement about it, either. He hopes his brother is right about one thing. _Annie can't ignore me then_, he thinks to himself.

"Have you eaten yet?" asks a familiar, slightly ragged female voice.

"Good afternoon to you, too, Mags," says Finnick. Being that Mags was Finnick's mentor, then friend, then caretaker, it was only natural she'd have a key to his house, but she probably came in when Turlach left, because she always knocks or rings the doorbell first before she resorts to using the key, which she has yet to use. Mags gives Finnick a nod and holds a dish out for him. "What's this?"

"Beef," Mags says. Finnick's eyes raise slightly at the idea of cow meat. He lifts the plate closer to his nose to smell the aroma. Yes, it's definitely beef, along with the scent of something sweet and tangy. Sauce. He smiles at the thought of digging into the meaty barbeque ribs.

"What's the special occasion?" Finnick asks. Meals regularly consists of the animals from the sea. Even though the peacekeepers are quite strict when it comes to taking food from the sea for themselves, they are allowed a small portion of what they fish for, being that this district is a career district. So it's not quite common to feed on some good beef, even for a victor. For it to be cooked by Mags is also a treat, because for some reason, it reminds him of his mom's cooking. Maybe it's the way Mags has always been there for him and his brother since their parents died, or maybe it's her actual cooking. Either way, he never refuses Mags' dishes.

"Does there have to be one?" asks Mags indifferently.

"No, I guess not," says Finnick. He immediately puts half of the ribs onto another plate and sets it aside for his brother. Mags takes a seat at the kitchen table and pushes one out with her foot for Finnick to sit in. Only when he takes his first bite into one of the ribs does he realize he hadn't eaten yet. He does wonder sometimes what he and his brother would have done had she not taken care of them in the days after his parents' death. _Probably starve to death_, he presumes. "Thanks," he says after clearing his mouth.

"How are you?" Mags asks in motherly fashion.

Finnick doesn't hesitate to say that single word. "Fine." He takes another piece into his mouth while looking at Mags, waiting to see what she'll say next, but he remembers something that he wants to ask Mags. "Mags, can I ask you a question? About the games?"

Mags doesn't bat an eye; she just says "Go on."

"Did you… struggle, I mean, afterwards? Was it hard for you to talk to people?"

Mags thinks about it for several seconds, purses her lips while looking at a spot on the wall behind Finnick. "Yeah, I struggled, I suppose. I could talk to people, though, just not about anything important or about the games. Only people I talked to 'bout the games were those that had been in the games. And at the time, there were only two other victors before me. But yes, those are the only people who you can talk to about it, don't you think?"

Finnick nods. "How long did it take for you to recover?"

"Recover?" Mags shakes her head. "If you had a decent heart and mind, you don't recover now, do you? But if you're asking how long it took for me to finally get back to living, well, I can't say exactly. It was a while ago, you know. I think I just started doing things day by day. Of course, I had my parents and sister to help me a little."

"How did they help?" The eagerness in his question was not lost on Mags, the corners of her mouth curl upwards.

"Oh, just by being there. By asking for my help with things, I think." Finnick just nods again, thinking through her answer, and trying to formulate it into a way to get to Annie. But Mags stops his train of thought. "You can't think of her as a machine that needs to be fixed."

"What?" Finnick again looks at Mags, this time with confusion in his eyes.

"It's not like that with girls," Mags says. Finnick's brows furrow with concern. "I'm just saying, you men seem to have this idea that whenever a girl has a problem, it's your responsibility, or your calling or something, to 'fix' it. It's not like she's a broken rudder. You can't just replace what's broken inside of her and she'll be all good again. Girls don't work like that."

Finnick frowns when he realizes that Mags is right. _Boys aren't like that, either_, he thinks, yet he forgets about that. Anyway, if girls were like that, then he probably wouldn't be having this conversation with Mags, and Annie would've been fine months ago, and she would be just as good a friend as Mags and his brother. At least, that was what he was hoping for after they left the Capitol six months ago.

"What do I do, then?" Finnick asks dejectedly. Mags grabs his hand and squeezes it, forcing Finnick to look at her.

"You talk with her," Mags says.

"But she won't let me," Finnick explains even though Mags already knows.

"Don't get whiny. It's been long enough. Get on over there and knock on her door," Mags grumbles slightly. He looks in the direction of where her house is, the front door is almost directly across the green from the front door of his house. The last time he actually knocked on her front door was about two months after she moved in.

"Should I call her first?" Finnick asks.

"Call her? She's not across town! She's right there, boy!" Mags grumbles even louder this time.

Finnick has to laugh, because he knows that's ridiculous. Mags never uses the phone, even though she is certainly entitled to given her age, but she is not one to use that excuse to avoid visiting people who live only a few houses away, so why would she approve of Finnick doing so.

"Okay, okay, I'll go. Just let me finish eating this. You're a doll, Mags," Finnick says in all his flirtatiousness. Mags cups one side of his face before slapping it hard enough to sting just a bit.

It takes less than 10 minutes for him to finish his plate and he and Mags are out the door. "I'll come by afterwards, which will probably be in 5 minutes."

"I'm coming with you," Mags says as she steps behind him. Finnick stops to look at her, his brows forrow again. "Let's go, boy." As she pushes his arm forward, he decides it'd be best not to question Mags about her interest in going and walks in step with her.

As they get to the door, Finnick moves ahead and walks up the steps to ring the doorbell. When it opens, Annie's father is standing there, looking at Finnick. Finnick smiles sheepishly at him.

"Hello, Mr. Cresta-," says Finnick, unable to complete his sentence, because that's when the door slowly closes on him.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70****th**** Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

**Sorry, this one is slightly shorter than the previous chapters. **

* * *

><p>Chapter 4: Before the Tour<p>

"Do you want me to show you?" Finnick asks, looking for any indication from Annie's face for an answer. He had been working on a fairly complicated knot and she was staring at it. Annie's eyes meet his for a split second and she nods slightly.

It took a couple of days for Annie to be comfortable with Finnick to where Mags didn't have to be around. Finnick still doesn't know what had happened to her when they came back to cause her to ignore him for the past 6 months, but at the moment, he figures it doesn't matter. He is just grateful that she's actually communicating with him, even if it is with just a nod here or a mumble there. The first step is talking. This is the second.

He gets her a small piece of rope and hands it to her. He goes through the process slowly, showing where the rope loops around and circles, and she follows. Her fingers tremble just enough for him to notice, but he doesn't say anything. When he looks at her face, it seems as if she's trying to say something, but if she is saying something, she's not saying it out loud. He just continues to show her the knot, twice, three times. She's quick about it, too.

"That was good. Try it again by yourself this time," he says. She does so, but stops halfway through, the look on her face contorting with confusion. She just needs a little hint as to what to do next, so Annie looks at Finnick, and this time she holds his gaze a little longer before looking down again. He moves his chair closer to her in as friendly a manner as possible, looking down at the piece of rope in her hand. He smiles slightly.

"Just… like this-," Finnick says, and slowly guides her fingers with his own to move the length of the rope correctly around. He feels her flinch slightly at his touch, but relaxes enough after a few seconds. Even so, Finnick lets go, not wanting to discomfort her in any way. He isn't sure what to make of her reaction and ignores it for now, even though it bothers him. He smiles to Annie anyway, trying to put her back at ease.

He comes back the following day, this time with some beef ribs that Mags had cooked up again, which she insists Finnick bring to Annie and her father. Annie isn't hungry at the moment, but her father welcomes the tasty dish and its appetizing scent, so Annie tells him to eat as much of it as possible. Despite living in the Victor's Village, it isn't too often they eat beef, considering that Annie prefers food from the ocean or the ground.

Annie graduallys makes her way to the sofa, with Finnick following, seating himself on the armchair. With silence as their barrier, Annie looks out the window, onto the flowers growing in the green. Finnick isn't sure how to start an actual conversation with her, and he is short of topics to discuss that don't involve the Victory Tour or the weather.

"Finnick," Annie says. He looks at her, her face still looking out the window. He isn't sure whether to acknowledge her, but he doesn't want to disturb her train of thought until he finally can't take the silence anymore.

"Annie?" Finnick says. Annie shakes her head slightly, as if to jar herself from whatever trance her mind was in. She turns her head to him and her eyes peer through the breaks in her unkempt hair. He doesn't notice anything but the piercing color of sea green. He can see it, the despair, and something else that he can't quite put a finger on. "What, Annie?"

Her eyes shift downward. "They're coming tomorrow." Finnick purses his lips as he lowers his head.

"Yes," Finnick says softly.

Minutes pass between them in yet another round of silence, except for the sound of waves crashing on the shore, but neither of them hear it. It might as well be complete silence for all they care. Finnick wants to say something to try to cheer her up, but he doesn't know what he can possibly say that will actually be an encouragement.

"I'll be alone?" Annie's voice is barely a whisper, but Finnick hears every word clear as a bell.

"No. You'll have Tessa and your team," Finnick says reassuringly. Then he does something that he momentarily forgets he isn't supposed to do. He smirks in that all too knowing grin seen on television at times as he says "And me!" The tone of his voice is filled with a slight smugness that's not undetected by Annie.

Annie's eyes turn even darker than usual and her face hardens at his smile. Finnick's jaw drops at the realization of his manner, but he doesn't say anything immediately. He doesn't have to. Finnick knows the second that the words came out of his mouth that he had said, and done, the wrong thing completely. He sighs and closes his eyes, partly because Annie's glare is that of anger and the anger is directed towards him once again.

"Annie-," Finnick regains his speech and starts to apologize, but he is too late. Annie gets up off the sofa and goes upstairs and he has a feeling she won't be coming back down anytime soon. It had been going well, but he messed it up, and he finds he's angry, too. Angry at himself. He stays angry at himself as he leaves her house. As he walks across the green. As he passes his own house and gets on his boat. As he sails out to the water. To his solace.

Finnick finally manages to steel himself just when the sun is setting. He has to get back to the dock before sundown or he will be in trouble. No one is allowed on the boats at night. If anyone were to get caught doing that, the punishment was not only severe, but sometimes even fatal. Finnick had once been witness to one such event when the father of one of his classmates had fallen asleep on his boat and woke up to the sound of peacekeepers boarding his deck after nightfall.

The head peacekeeper, Garcen, who was rumored to be with a young woman that night, was so infuriated by the violation that he had the other peacekeepers bring the man's wife and son to the side to watch as he whipped the man to death. Unfortunately, Finnick was at the square with his own parents when it all happened. Needless to say, he made his father promise him he wouldn't go to sleep on the boat.

The funny thing about it now is that Finnick had fallen asleep on several occasions on his own boat, but he always woke up well before sunset, and he was not usually out on his boat during this time of the day. This was an exception.

He looks out to the shore again, not expecting to see anyone. It's a cold day and getting colder, so people should be inside by now. But he sees her there, her long, black tresses moving in the light wind.

"Hey Annie," he says blandly, very well speaking to himself. "Sorry for smiling at you. Sorry that I can act like a total idiot. Sorry that you met me, even though I helped save your life." He pauses, and thinks back to the words he just said. "Okay, maybe I'm not sorry about that." He looks in her direction again, but she is gone. "I guess we'll finish up this conversation tomorrow, eh?"

He speeds up his boat as much as he can to get back to the dock before it's too late. The patrol boats will be getting ready to head out themselves, he assumes, and he's right. As he slows to the dock, he sees several of the peacekeepers, including Head Peacekeeper Garcen, prepping their speed boats to do their nightly patrols on the water. Finnick has about 30 minutes of sunlight left. Garcen eyes Finnick coolly as Finnick docks and anchors his boat.

"Taking a little risk, are we, Finnick?" asks Garcen snidely.

"No more than usual, Garcen," answers Finnick as he passes him. Finnick despises Garcen, mainly due to the way that Garcen treats women. He treats women as if they were property. But being that this is District 4, even Garcen has to be cautious with the way he deals with them. Garcen won't chance his position as head peacekeeper by being careless. So, he only takes in those that he knows will not give him a problem.

Garcen had actually tried to befriend Finnick before, since Finnick's reputation around Panem was something that Garcen envied. But Garcen had neither the looks nor the persona that Finnick embodied. If anything, Garcen was the antithesis of who Finnick was. Although Garcen was just as tall as Finnick, he wasn't quite as agile, but what he lacked in swiftness he made up for in sheer strength, and that's saying a lot considering Finnick is not weak by any means. Garcen reminded Finnick of some of male careers in District 2. The ones who he knew had taken to training even though they weren't supposed to. Finnick had guessed that Garcen probably was from District 2 and had trained to be a tribute, but was never reaped, so he took to being a peacekeeper instead.

"Just as long as you don't get caught, right?" Garcen says to Finnick. When Finnick stops to give him a questioningly look, Garcen bellows out a howl. Finnick doesn't really understand what Garcen means, but he isn't about to let Garcen get to him – to give Garcen the satisfaction of knowing he actually can irritate him. Not now. Finnick turns back toward his house and walks away. He can hear Garcen yell out even as Finnick is at his door, "Have fun with your victor during the tour!" Then another howl of laughter. Turlach is at the door, and even he's frowning in disgust at the sound of Garcen's voice, but his main concern is Finnick. Finnick looks at him apologetically before going in. Turlach knows not to give Finnick any grief about coming back so late, but only silently hopes that it won't happen again.

Annie can hear Garcen, also. If Finnick had looked, he would've noticed Annie standing at the door of her own house, her eyes watching him as he walks from the Victor's Village dock to his house. The sound of Garcen's laughter causes the hairs on every part of her body to shiver and stand. She sees that Finnick isn't reciprocating any kind of pleasantries to what Garcen is saying.

Annie sighs in relief and goes inside her own house to try to sleep that night, the night before the Victory Tour.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70****th**** Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

* * *

><p>Chapter 5: Victory Tour<p>

"We're almost there," said Tessa. "Oh, this place! It's just so dreadful here. Nothing like your district at all! It's a good thing it's the first place to hit. The sooner we get this part of the tour over with the better! The people here are so dirty and unpretty, I don't know how they can stand it. I'm amazed they even have one victor from that district," Tessa continues, then whispers loud enough for everyone to hear, "but hopefully you don't have to meet _him_."

Tessa goes on mumbling insults about Finnick's fellow victor friend, and how he's a filthy brigand with no manners or taste and no hopes of mentoring a winner of the games at all. "It's a good thing you didn't have him as a mentor, Annie. He would've done you in, for sure!" Finnick looks at Tessa, his annoyance obvious in her assumption of Haymitch's mentoring skills. He doesn't know what bothers him more, that Tessa made that assumption about Haymitch or that she is basically right.

He also can't stand the way that Tessa describes District 12. Sure, it definitely isn't as picturesque as District 4. Nothing is as picturesque as District 4, except maybe the Capitol itself, but only because of the mountainous backdrop that the Capitol lay in. But her blatant disregard for the people in District 12 is worse. During his tour, he saw sadness, pain, and even anger and he felt so ashamed of what he had done. Some winners looked on the other tributes' families and scoffed at them, but he did no such thing. Now, here he is with another scoffer as the escort. He excuses himself from the dining table where Tessa, Annie, and the rest of the prep team sit and goes back to his room to relax a little.

As soon as he puts his head down on the pillow, a knock comes on the door. "Come in," he says. If it's Tessa, he pretty much plans to lay into her what he thinks she is in comparison to the people of District 12. He almost thinks any ramifications of his verbal assault will be worth it.

But when Annie opens the door, barely stepping in past the door frame, Finnick immediately sits up on his bed. "Hey," he says. They had barely spoken since they got on the train and that was the day before. He wasn't sure if she wanted to talk to him again just yet, but Mags told him to be patient and she will come around, so he waited. Annie's eyes roam his room, but avoids contact with Finnick's for a while until there's nothing else to see.

"Do you remember this place?" asks Annie.

"District 12?" Finnick asks and nods before verbally replying. "Yes."

"What's it like?" asks Annie slowly after a few seconds of silence, "Seeing the families?" Finnick is taken aback. He remembered his tour, but had never thought about Annie's tour and what it could do to her, having to stand there and face the families of those tributes who lost their lives in the games. Of course, he had only gotten to talking to Annie again just recently.

Finnick takes in her gaze. Annie's hair has been done up into some odd Capitol-type hairstyle which makes Annie's features look all the more unnerving. With all the flawless makeup done by the stylist and her crew, they don't hide the sorrow that shows through her sea-foam green eyes. They probably didn't even notice it anyway. He repeats the question in his head to see if there is a way for him to answer it truthfully without damaging this poor woman's psyche even more. _The short and straightforward approach is the best solution_, he concludes.

"Painful," Finnick answers. "But you'll be able to get through it."

"How do you know?" asks Annie.

Finnick thinks about his next words carefully. He has to. He doesn't want to say the wrong thing again. He reminds himself that he doesn't need to be the suave, ladies-man type that he is with so many other women. He doesn't have to flirt his way into the conversation. Plus, Annie needs him to be honest if she is to get through this tour. This mentorship isn't something that ends with the games. At least not in his district. "Because you made it this far and you're still alive," Finnick says. "But if you need support, I will help you as much as I can."

Annie can't stop her hand from twitching. Even though Finnick tells her that she'll make it through this tour unscathed, she isn't so sure about that. Fortunately for her, this first stop on the Victory Tour is to a district in which the tributes had died fairly quickly at the Cornucopia and not by her hands. Finnick stands behind Annie as she makes her speech to the crowd, with the families of the dead tributes in the front. They barely look at Annie, their heads down and eyes still forlorn from their loss.

After her speech, during the little victory dinner, Finnick introduces Annie to a very drunk Haymitch, the sole victor from District 12. Haymitch's eyes blink slowly at her as he shakes her hand, then holds on for a few seconds more, only to keep from falling forward, it seems. Finnick has to practically carry Haymitch to the closest available chair.

Annie doesn't know why at first, but she feels sorry for Haymitch. Maybe because he doesn't have anyone else here who understands what he experienced. There are so many victors in District 4, so she knows she at least is surrounded by people who all had experienced the dread of surviving in the games. And even with that, she still has a hard time dealing with all the mental anguish that it's caused her. She can't imagine having to deal with that completely alone, with nothing but empty houses to keep you company.

When she observes Haymitch sitting with his head down and Finnick talking to him, it's like a bolt of electricity bringing something to light for her; she realizes at that moment Finnick isn't like any victor she has seen or heard of. Finnick is someone who cares, not only about his family, but for many others. Even without his parents, he learned to take others into consideration. She'd seen him before they had officially met. She'd seen how he treated people in their district, always courteous, always humble. So very different from the Finnick she's seen on television. She realizes that the other Finnick, the one she'd seen on television during previous Hunger Games is not the same person as the one who was her mentor. The Finnick in the Capitol is overly confident, cocky, shallow, and completely full of himself.

The Finnick in District 4 is the complete opposite. She berates herself quietly for not noticing this before. She had thought that when they returned to District 4 after the games, he wouldn't really want to have anything to do with her. Annie had then decided that it would be best if she were to just ignore him before he did. That was part of the reason. She was also ashamed of herself, for breaking down the way she did when Lev was killed during the games. Annie was supposed to be able to handle it, but it didn't turn out that way. It was with Finnick's help that she was able to get through the post-games events, but how had she thanked him? She didn't. Of course, there was more to it than just that, but she set that thought aside.

Annie continues watching the both of them, seeing how they carry on in conversation. Haymitch nods to what is being said. Finnick's hand on Haymitch's back in a gesture of encouragement. She doesn't stop watching them, and when Finnick turns his head towards her, he smiles reassuringly to her, just as he did to Haymitch. For the first time ever, Annie smiles back at him.

The role he played during the games revives as they go through each district. He guides her, talks her through it, stands by her during the tours of the districts and the speeches she is made to read.

The nights on the train reveal a new kind of problem. Finnick is well experienced in nightmares, having so many of his own, but he never actually heard another person scream in their dreams before. When he hears it, he's sure someone is being tortured or at least being attacked viciously. As he runs down the narrow walkway of the train and finds where the horrible sound is coming from, he realizes it is in Annie's room. Annie didn't lock her door, so luckily he doesn't have to break it down.

There he sees Annie, sitting upright, screaming at nothing. Her arms are thrashing from side to side with her pillow in hand, as if she's swinging a large stick back and forth. Finnick manages to grab hold of her arms and avoids the swipe of her hands toward his face. He jars her awake from whatever nightmare she was going through, and from what little light there is in the room, Finnick can see the fear that plagues Annie's eyes before she realizes where she is. She can't help it, but she just wraps her arms tightly around Finnick's waist, her head presses against his chest. The only thing Finnick can do at that point is hold her until she calms down. "It's okay," Finnick says. "It was just a dream."

Finnick feels Annie shake her head against him. "I know, but it felt so real. It still does. It's like I'm still in there… in the games. I can still hear their voices, their screams." Annie's voice is so soft and shaky but Finnick understands her. Finnick feels Annie tremble and her arms tighten around him even more, either to stop from shaking or to protect herself from the images of her nightmares. He caresses her hair with one hand while he gently rubs her back in circles with his other hand to try to get her to relax. No words are said, but they stay that way for several minutes. When Annie finally loosens her grip, Finnick pulls back to look at her face, to see any sign of composure in her eyes.

"Sorry," Annie says as she looks up at him embarrassingly.

"Don't be," Finnick says. "You okay now?"

"I guess," says Annie, but he isn't convinced.

"What is it?" asks Finnick.

"I don't know…" says Annie, then looks down, away from his worrisome eyes. "I thought… maybe if I tried not to be so scared anymore, it would stop – these nightmares. But it hasn't." She pauses. "It never will, will it?" She looks back at Finnick, waiting to hear what she already knows. She sees Finnick's hesitation. The lump in his throat moves up and down as he gulps. The flickering of his eyelids and the shifting of his eyes give evidence of his answer before he even speaks.

"I wish I could say it will," he admits. Annie releases her arms around his waist and straightens up. She is thankful for the darkness to cover the blush in her cheeks as she realizes how much she let her guard down in front of Finnick. She has pajamas on, but he is shirtless and for some reason unknown to her, it makes her feel a little uncomfortable. Finnick realizes it too, because as she lets go of him, he straightens up as well and put his feet flat on the side of the bed as he moves to sit right on the edge before he continues. "But maybe that's a good thing."

Annie frowns at him, and she wonders if he can see the expression on her face as he turns his head to look at her again. "What do you mean?" she asks.

"Well, I'm just saying that maybe… it's a way for our brain to remind us that we still care. That we still feel. That death still affects us. That we're not like those who watch the games every year, excited about death and killing," Finnick says before he stops when Annie touches his arm.

"Please don't," says Annie. Finnick understands. Some people don't like to hear such miserable things.

"I don't like them myself, these nightmares. But at least I know what's right and what's wrong. Does that make sense?" Finnick had never said these things to any other person before, partly because he didn't know if that was true, but after he says it, he believes it, even if it doesn't make sense to anyone else.

"Yes, I think so," Annie says. She puts herself underneath the covers again and leans back against the wall. Her face turns toward where he sits.

"How do you feel now?" Finnick asks.

"Okay," Annie says quietly and calmly.

"We have a few more hours to go until dawn, try to get some sleep," Finnick says softly. Only when he feels Annie's hand squeeze around his does he realize that he's been holding hers. As he gets up to go back to his own room, he turns around one last time to see if she really is going to try to go back to sleep. She's already laying back down and her eyes close as he steps through the doorway.

"Finnick," Annie whispers. Finnick stops again and turns. Her eyes glow from what faint light is reflecting. "Thank you."

"Sure. Go to sleep," Finnick says warmly. For that moment, he feels that he finally is able to reconnect with Annie again, not just as a mentor, but possibly even as a friend. The thought of it makes him feel a relief that he hasn't felt in a long time. A warmth spreads through him, a sense of moving forward, and in a good way. He smiles faintly.

As he walks back to his room, he realizes something else. No one besides him had come to find out who it was that was screaming. Not even Tessa. Of course not. They don't care. He wonders if any of them will ever care. He forces the thought out of his head. He isn't going to let them bother him.

He decides to leave his door slightly ajar in case Annie has another nightmare. He would be the only one to notice.

They both sleep through the rest of the night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

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><p>Chapter 6: The Victory Banquet<p>

The victory banquet at the president's mansion is just how Finnick had described it. Live music from musicians floating about. Grand decorations occupying the walls. A ceiling that looks like the night sky. The most garish looking people the Capitol has to offer. And food. Tables upon tables full of every kind of dish imaginable, and some she would never have been able to imagine because she had never heard of it before. One very large table has chefs on one side of it cutting pieces of lamb, roast, chicken, turkey, and any other sort of livestock. The aroma overwhelms almost everyone there. There are people milling about waiting for their turn to get at one of the chefs for their cut of meat.

Annie's not at all interested in eating, though. She gets enough to eat at home, so this doesn't give her cause to delve into what everyone else consider the best banquet every year. She's distracted by her own thoughts not about the food, really, but about where it came from. The beef and lamb and chicken from District 10. The vegetables and fruits from District 11. The bread from District 9. The seafood from District 4. No doubt these food items were picked solely for being the best from each district. The well nurtured cattle and chicken, the juiciest and sweetest fruits, the purest grains, the freshest fish. The Capitol takes the best from every district. Only the best. And what do the districts get, she thinks to herself. Only, it's not hard for her to guess, because she knows. She saw it on everyone's faces in each district. Yes, the Capitol takes the best of everything and the districts, well, they get the pain, the sorrow, the hunger, the despair.

Finnick is standing next to her, watching her, waiting for her to move, to react. But she stands there just observing. "You're expected to eat," he says. Annie turns her head to face him. Her eyes lock on his and she just notices something in them. The circles under his eyes and the frown that has stayed on his lips during the times on the train have caused creases on his face now, so stark in contrast from the appearance of the Capitol people walking around them. Certainly, her screams in the middle of the night have something to do with this. His face is not only of concern, but she suspects he's physically tired from having to wake up constantly to check on her.

"I might throw up," she says.

Finnick doesn't tell her about how it's perfectly normal to throw up during these lavish banquets where food abounds. He has a feeling that if he does, she actually will throw up, so he just hopes she doesn't find out about the special glasses of liquid that are placed on a table near the bathroom area. He figures it's best just to get her a drink himself.

"Why don't I get you some water first, then we'll go from there," Finnick says. Annie nods in assent.

Just as he leaves, Annie is confronted with several people who congratulate her over and over again on her victory in the Hunger Games. She keeps up her smile, but only half-heartedly, though no one seems to notice the lack of authenticity in her face. On and on they go about her, just to meet her, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games. After about 5 minutes, the nervousness in her voice is becoming more and more of a frantic stutter, and her hands start trembling. Just when she feels her smile faltering, Finnick comes back with a glass of water and a plate of caviar and crackers.

"Excuse us," Finnick says to those around them in an all too charming smile, interrupting whatever conversation was taking place. He gives Annie the plate to hold and leads her gently by the elbow. The people make way for them, smiling back, even winking at some of the ladies as he passes them. "You okay?" he says through his grin so only she can hear him. She is familiar with it.

"Yes. I just didn't realize all these people would want to talk to me. I don't even understand them half the time. They talk so fast, and they look so weird up close. Why would they want to wear purple lipstick? Or have green hair? Or orange skin?" Annie whispers back. As they move away from the largest of crowds, Finnick laughs a bit and Annie looks at him questioningly. "What?"

"Nothing," Finnick starts, "you just remind me of how differently people interpret what beauty is."

Annie crinkles her forehead in confusion, or thought, as Finnick smiles at her. "Do they really think they need all that to look beautiful?" As they continue walking, he leads her to one of several ponds surrounding the monstrous banquet room. She stares into the pond, watching as the fish swim by.

Finnick shrugs.

"I suppose so. Why else would they want to look like that, do you think?"

Annie stares down at the fish. Being from District 4, she's familiar with all kinds of fish. But the ones in this pond are different. As she glances at them, the colors they display are anything but natural. Stripes of neon colors ripple through their scales. Fuschia, blue, even purple just like Caesar Flickerman's hair color today at the interview. Annie puts down the plate of caviar and crackers as she's completely lost her appetite. The idea that even the fish are made to be just as much of a spectacle as the people that care for them here bothers her.

"Maybe they're hiding," says Annie.

Finnick thinks about her answer for a few seconds. He can't really talk with Annie in more detail about what she just said, since they're more than likely being filmed, listened to or watched. Finnick can only surmise that she doesn't mean hiding any actual flaws on their face or body, but hiding something more internal. He never thought of the Capitol people as being this way, and he didn't think that maybe there are really some people in the Capitol that actually have some sort of regret for what they do to those in the districts, and the more and more he thinks about Annie's statement, the more he realizes that Annie means exactly that. That these people are hiding behind their made up faces, tattoos and colored skins to hide their shame. Maybe it's not intentional, but he comes to the conclusion that Annie actually sees more to these people than he's ever seen in them. But she doesn't know what he knows.

Annie doesn't know what he's seen and what he's heard from the people of the Capitol. And as much as he wants to believe in what Annie has said, he knows he doesn't. He's heard of or seen too many despicable acts from them to make him think otherwise. But maybe, just maybe, he concludes, they can't all be as horrible as the ones he's met in the past. They can't all be as oblivious to the fact that the games are not just entertainment. They can't all be that heartless or stupid. No, they can't. The ones he's had to meet in previous years since his victory, they've all been connections, friends, collaborators of President Snow. He really hasn't met anyone outside of that circle. They have to have something that President Snow wants for them to obtain Finnick, so Finnick only knows the contemptible people, the ones that want only to use him for their pleasure. _Is it possible that Annie may be onto something?,_ thinks Finnick.

But before he can give anymore thought on the matter, he's approached by someone. According to the attire that person is wearing, Finnick already knows what it's about before the person even utters a word.

"Mr. Odair, your presence is requested by the President," the assistant says.

Finnick looks back at Annie, and she has a nervous yet curious look on her face, as if she knows something's going to happen and she won't be able to do anything about it.

"Annie, I'll try to be back shortly. I think it might be best if you find Tessa and stay close to her until I come back," Finnick says calmly. Unfortunately, they haven't been there long enough to excuse themselves just yet from the party, so Finnick's plan is to see if he can postpone whatever "assignment" the President wants him to complete. He knows it's a complete absurdity to even think of a way out of President Snow's task, but he's willing to try.

Annie's not sure what to make of it, but Finnick did not look happy when that man interrupted them. As a matter of fact, Annie notices the saddened expression in his eyes and the slow up and down motion of the lump in his throat, as if it is hard for him to swallow. She knows that President Snow is not above meeting victors, but doesn't know why Finnick would react to having to see him. _Is it because Snow asked only to see him? What would Snow want with Finnick? _Annie looks down at the fish again. The colors rippling again through one of them with scales of yellow, then orange, then red, then green, then back to yellow again. _Nothing is as it seems here_, she thinks. _It's all false._ In that moment, a sudden chill courses through her body, but not from cold. She doesn't know why, but she has a feeling that Finnick will not be return as soon as she would like.

When Annie looks back up, Finnick is already gone. She closes her eyes, and suddenly remembers the words he spoke to her after she stormed off the stage after the games six months ago. "Think of something good," he said. She starts with the sand on the beach, and brings back to mind the images of the soft sand moving between her toes. She can almost feel it now. And even though her hair is pulled back away from her face, her imagination brings them sweeping across her face gently. She hears Finnick's voice again, reassuring her they will be home again soon, and a smile spreads across her face. She keeps his words repeating in her head as she meets back up with Tessa.

It takes several minutes to walk to where President Snow is. Finnick is very familiar with where the man is leading him. His shoes fall softly onto the plush carpet and the tapestries on the wall mute much of the sound that escape from the party, but they are quite a ways from the banquet room so it wouldn't matter, because no one would be able to hear anything this far away. Still, Finnick knows that the President is very careful and discreet when it comes to matters such as this.

Before they even reach the entryway, Finnick can smell it already. It's an odd smell of medicine, blood, and roses, and even though he's familiar with it, the scent makes him wish for all the world the smell of Haymitch's musty alcoholic breath. Of course, no one ever says anything about it. President Snow probably doesn't even notice it anymore, either. But by the way the President speaks out some of his words, he won't be able to forget about it.

President Snow is standing over one of the rose bushes in the garden. Finnick walks in, and stops just past the entryway. He doesn't say anything, but only waits for Snow to make the first move.

"How are this year's festivities?" Snow asks.

"Fine," Finnick answers curtly. Finnick is past being overly courteous with President Snow, especially tonight. But Snow isn't offended by this particular behavior from Finnick. He knows that he will not be getting any special treatment or wonderful accolades he so often receives from those in the Capitol. Not after all that he's done to Finnick and his family. But Finnick does keep himself composed around Snow and Snow does the same as he always does. For President Snow, as long as Finnick Odair continues to play his role, he will allow Finnick the freedom to speak however he wants to in front of him when no one else is around – up to a certain extent.

"The food is scintillating, I take it?" says the president. Finnick hears the drawl of the 's' in his question, almost like a hissing sound.

"I assume so. Mr. President, what do you want to speak to me about?" asks Finnick rather impatiently.

"My my. Impatient to get back to the party, are you?" asks Snow, not looking at Finnick but down at the roses. One particular red rose captures his attention and he feathers over the petals with his fingers.

"Well, since I'm the victor's mentor, I was under the assumption that you would give me this year to focus on my duties as such," says Finnick, with an air of caution. He realizes that he probably should not have stated his previous comments with such shortness. Finnick actually meant to request some "time off" from whatever assignment the President wants of him, but as he walked through the long hallway towards the Garden Room, it gave him time to remember how much President Snow had already taken from him.

"Is that so?" asks the president, who now turns his eyes from the red rose to Finnick's face. Finnick just looks at him, his eyes slowly shifting from irritation to submission. "Maybe you just don't realize how… significant… you are to the people of Panem," says Snow, pausing, his face showing no emotion one way or the other.

_Or to you_, thinks Finnick.

Finnick straightens up and, with unwavering attention, says "It's the Victory Tour. Surely, you weren't planning on having me… occupy my time with someone else tonight, of all nights."

"Oh, possibly not," says President Snow blankly. "It is possible I have requested your presence here for something else," he pauses again. Finnick's brows furrow, trying to think of what Snow could possibly mean. Here for something else, he wonders in his head. Finnick tries to think if he's taken a misstep somewhere since the last Games, but he can't think of anything. He's been occupying himself fairly quietly at his home in District 4 with time with Turlach and Mags and only just recently with Annie. He tries to think if maybe he said or did anything that could've caused alarm to the president. He knows only too harshly that there are few places to hide from prying Capitol eyes within the districts. But his visits to the districts have been harmless. Yes, he chatted a little with Haymitch, but neither said anything regarding the president, or at least nothing blatant. He only just briefly greeted Beetee in District 5, and Seeder and Chaff in 11, and a handful of other victors in other districts, but didn't even have a meaningful conversation with any of them as he spent most of his time watching over Annie. So what, then, is this about, Finnick ponders. "I see you're confused. Let me ask you this, then. How is our newest victor these days?"

Snow must know that Annie has been only just getting to control her emotional state of being, so Finnick answers cautiously, "She's getting better. Better than she had been right after."

"Excellent. Excellent. It would be a delight, I think, if she could be well enough by the next games to be of great… assistance to me, as you have been, wouldn't you think, Mr. Odair?"

Finnick's hands clench and his eyes widen with dread as it dawns on him on what the president is not so subtly hinting at. He knows there are others like him, forced into Snow's despicable "trade." Finnick shivers at the thought that Snow would actually want to take Annie into this crazy secret life that he has been forced into by Snow. The life that only a few people know to not be real, but an act that he had concocted to separate his true self from this false one that the Capitol people know and welcome, and that many lust over. Finnick has been with so many women he can't even begin to count, nor does he care to, and none that he ever truly cared about. All because of the man standing in front of him now, the man with the overbearingly sweet-smelling red rose in his hand.

And now, thinking that Annie could be subjected to the same fate as him. _No, he can't do that to her_, Finnick says to himself. Finnick doesn't want this to happen, but with his thoughts going crazy over the idea, he can't form a clear thought as to how he could possibly be able to prevent it. He tries to think of what he can say or do to change Snow's mind about forcing Annie into this. He knows he can't outright tell Annie, either, or it could destroy her to the point of suicide, and he knows it had been done before.

Memories of another girl victor a couple of years after he had won the games come into his mind. She was a 16 year old from District 10. Snow had immediately requested she entertain a man whom Finnick guessed at being around 50 years of age. The girl refused and within a week's time, the girl's mother was accused of stealing meat from their own livestock and was shot and killed by the head peacekeeper there. The girl still had her father, but after the mother's death, he turned against his daughter, blaming her for her mother's death. It didn't take too long after that for the girl to realize she had lost both parents. Right after the girl returned to District 10 after her Victory Tour, after she succumbed to the demands of President Snow and surrendered herself to the man in the Capitol, she was found the following morning by her father in the bedroom of her house, both arms slit open with long, thick gashes and blood everywhere and a large sharp knife lay in her open palm. The tears that she had cried the evening before were left dried streaks on her face. This wasn't in the news on television, of course. Finnick had heard about it from the girl's mentor.

In the few seconds following President Snow's question, Finnick imagines Annie in that same situation as the girl from District 10. A surge of both terror and anger wash over his face. "Please, sir, you can't," Finnick says, his voice cracking just slightly.

"Excuse me?" asks President Snow, acting as if he's surprised at Finnick's state, when that is exactly the reaction he intended.

Finnick sighs defeatedly. "Please, Mr. President. Annie would never be well enough for this type of lifestyle. It could destroy her. It could kill her."

"Kill her?" Snow repeats, with mock surprise. "Well, we can't allow that to happen to the newest member of the Victors Group, can we? What, then, do you propose in lieu of Annie's place? Hmm?" Snow asks. Finnick can tell that Snow is enjoying this turn of events, reveling in his dominance of the conversation. Finnick can only offer one thing in the hopes that it will keep Annie safe from this snake's trap, but it may not be enough because Snow already has it.

"Me. I'll do more. I'll do whatever you want. Be whoever you want me to be. I'll come to the Capitol as many times as you need me," Finnick says, trying not to sound too desperate. The corners of President Snow's mouth only curl up just a bit, but it's enough.

"But you've already done so much for me, Mr. Odair. Do you really think you can continue with more assignments? Are _you_ able to handle the workload?" teases Snow cruelly.

Finnick plays along, of course, because he needs to in order to protect Annie. He doesn't know why he should stick out his neck so much for her, but he only knows that he cannot allow Annie to go through this kind of mental anguish when she's already so fragile. _No, not fragile_, he thinks. Annie has some kind of unknown strength in her that he's not sure where it comes from, but 'fragile' is not quite the word for Annie. All he knows is that he still wants to help her. This is one way of doing that.

"I am. And I can be more useful to you than she can. You know that," he says with poise and utmost earnestness.

President Snow is now close enough to Finnick where Finnick can see the pure darkness in his eyes. Snow hands Finnick the long-stemmed red rose.

"Your offer… is accepted. I would like for you to enjoy this evening, therefore I only have one assignment for you tonight. There's a red-haired woman - dressed in red. She has accented it with a white feather boa around her neck as well as a white feathered hat. See to it that she is taken care of this evening," President Snow says rather business-like.

Finnick takes the rose in his hand. His hope of not being assigned tonight is no longer something he wishes to argue against. As he leaves the Garden Room, President Snow utters one more statement to Finnick. "It would do you well, Mr. Odair, to act more courteous when speaking to me, even if we are the only ones in the room. Don't you think?"

Finnick swallows hard before answering, keeping his temper in check as he utters the next few words. "My apologies, Mr. President." He turns back towards to door and leaves.

As he walks back towards the banquet room, he goes over the conversation in his head. The way he acted upon entering. There was no hiding the fact that Finnick hated Snow, and Snow knew it. None of the others that service Snow in this way are particularly fond of the President, either. But he knows he was acting a little too smug for Snow, yet he didn't stop. Only when Snow mentioned Annie had he realized the mess he caused for himself.

Finnick even theorizes the possibility that it was Snow's full intention to have him service this woman in red. But his attitude and repudiation towards Snow before a request had even been made had prevented it from making it easy on either of them. Finnick berates himself for being so pompous.

He wonders if he should look for Annie first to try to explain his reason for having to leave again for a longer amount of time, but thinks the better of it. He would rather try to find this woman and get his assignment over with as soon as possible. Only "as soon as possible" will not come fast enough for him, he assumes.

He reaches into himself and finds the inner mask he will hide behind for the duration of this party, and maybe until he can get back to his home district. When the confident and suave Finnick steps into the crowd, multiple lustful eyes are on him. He winks at one pretty girl in a yellow and black bumblebee-like outfit with her bumblebee-like hair shaped into antennae, and gently strokes another woman's wings that drape the back of her dress as he smiles at her. When he sees the redhead in red and draped in a white feather boa and white-feathered hat, her eyes are already on him, and he makes his way towards her.

The redhead gazes at his lips, his smile. Only when the red rosebud comes into her eyeline does she tear her eyes away from him. "You match," he says to her. She blushes as she takes the rose by the stem. "Thank you," she says rather hazily as she smells the rose. "It smells wonderful," she quips. Finnick scoffs at the statement in his mind, but feigns a chuckle at her comment.

Finnick the bends his head close to her, enough to where his nose just grazes the hair on the side of her neck, and sniffs. The perfume the redhead has on is unappealing at best, but he doesn't recoil. "Just like you," he drawls out in her ear. With that, he knows he's got her hooked. But he doesn't ever need to say much to these women. After all, the women that he sees in the Capitol are assigned to him by President Snow as a tradeoff. Finnick sleeps with them and they in return give something Snow wants. He doesn't know what Snow wants from this woman, who seems to be in her mid-40's and acting quite giddy for her age, but he doesn't care.

Sometimes they will tell him things in secret, but he has yet to make those secrets public. He has already told several trustworthy victors, but not even his brother or anyone in District 4 know what he knows about President Snow and many other Capitol delegates. He can't afford to have them know in case something happens. In case that information could be used against him or Turlach or Mags. He doesn't press the women for these secrets either, but it's amazing how much information they are willing to disclose after a couple of hours with Finnick.

He gently strokes her arm. "Want to get out of here?" The redhead only smiles, making that his cue to lead her out of the party. The amount of time that Finnick and Annie's eyes lock on each other as he passes through the crowd with the redhead in tow is less than a second. It's enough. Enough time for Annie to see what Finnick's eyes reveal, even behind his smirk, that no one else seems to notice. Shame. She is right. He isn't going to be back shortly. In fact, she doesn't plan to see him the rest of the evening.


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading. **

**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**

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><p>Chapter 7: No relief in daylight<p>

Annie wakes up in alarm. Not from any loud noise or scream, because there was no noise that came from her. Every night for the past two weeks, her nightmares have become something of a routine, and she knows exactly why. The reaping. It takes place today, however, it's been looming over her like a dark cloud and has now finally arrived. Annie no longer has to worry about being reaped, but the memories of her Games is still fresh, and lately more vivid in her sleep. The only bright side about it is that recently she has been able to jar herself awake without having someone to do it for her, whereas before, her dad would have to come in. That made it hard on him, too. His handicap, the loss of one arm, had made it difficult for him to do anything but grab one of Annie's hands and avoid being hit by the other.

This time, not only does she awaken on her own, but a new sensation has come with it. Tears. Her body begins to shake with her uncontrollable sobs. The weird thing for her is that she can't remember what exactly the nightmare was about that is causing this much emotion from her. And it's all she can do to keep herself from being heard outside the walls of her room.

A soft knock is on the door several seconds later. "Annie?" her dad calls out from the other side.

Annie takes a deep breath and clears her throat before she says anything. "It's okay, dad. I'm okay," says Annie, almost too well. Too happy, she thinks. But the door doesn't open and the knob doesn't turn.

"Okay, well, I'll be downstairs if you need anything," says her father.

Annie shakes off the dread that came along with the now vague dream, and slowly gets up out of bed. She knows it's going to be a long day. There will be the somberness of some and the elation of others. It's a mixed bag of emotions for the people of District 4, an aptly called Career District, because of its alliance during the Games to the other so-called superior Districts, 1 and 2. After what had happened in the arena to her last year, she doesn't consider herself "Career" material, but she did survived nonetheless. Now it's her turn, presumably, to mentor another tribute to survive. She tries to remember if that's what her nightmare was about, but she still can't pull the memories back out. Instead, she tries to shake off her anxiety and forget about her nightmare. _They always come back anyway_, thinks Annie.

She gets dressed promptly because she plans to make breakfast for her father. But before she leaves her room, she catches a glimpse outside her balcony door. She can see the boat anchored about 200 yards away from the beach. The faint outline of a figure stands on the deck, possibly leaning against the railing, but she can't make out it if the figure is facing the beach or the stretches of the ocean on the other side. All she can decipher is that it is Finnick on that boat, as he is almost every day. The times that he's not out there in the mornings are when he's helping Mags or Turlach with something else. Or when he's at the Capitol.

Annie is actually not supposed to know that he's gone to the Capitol. He's only gone for an evening, but comes back looking down and acting distant, even if he tries not to. Ever since they came back from her Victory Tour, it then became Finnick who kept himself at a distance. Not that he would deliberately avoid her at all costs, like she did to him before, but there were times when he didn't seem up for talking with her or even looking at her. She still wonders about that last night at the Banquet room in the president's mansion, how he had left with that redheaded woman. At first, a wave of emotions went through her – pain, fear, anger, shock, confusion, disbelief, denial, and even betrayal. But then their eyes met, just briefly. In that one-second glance, all those emotions dissolved into one that she still isn't quite sure she understands. She felt sorry for Finnick. She realized in that moment, regardless of the lack of information she had on what was going on, she had a feeling that Finnick was subjugated into spending time with this red-haired woman. It was the Capitol's Finnick that night that conquered in the end. District 4's Finnick, the one out there on the boat, is trying to regain his sense of self again, Annie thinks.

So, in the mornings since their return from the Victory Tour, when Finnick is home in District 4, she looks out her bedroom window or goes out on the balcony to see his boat there, with him standing on the bough, possibly looking in her direction. She wonders if he knows. If he knows that sometimes in the mornings when she feels the worst, after a long sleepless night of violent dreams, when she can barely get herself out of the bed, when she feels like she wants to die, she looks for his boat from the balcony of her room. Just seeing it there somehow brings her to a sense of peace, to a sense of belonging, and she knows she can last another day. That she wants to last at least one more day. Every morning, she goes through this routine. That boat, it seems, is her anchor to keep steadfast, to keep strong, and to keep reminding herself of the good things that are left in her life. But it's not just the boat, though, she tells herself. It's him, too.

She decides that maybe it's her turn to help him. But she doesn't know if she can, especially now. With today being the reaping, she's sure to be given the chance to talk to him, but it would be more likely about the goings-on of the day and who of all the victors are going. None of them are forced to go after their first year, but most of them do anyway. It's the one time throughout the year that victors are able to talk to other victors from the other districts. Some of them have formed a strong camaraderie with each other, so they go.

Annie will be going because she was last year's victor, and by district rule, she will be one of the mentors. The other will be drawn. That means her father will be alone again in the house. She wants to talk to Mags, possibly, about watching over him. This seems silly, knowing that Mags is the one who should be looked after instead of her father, but Mags is unusually tough for her age, both physically and emotionally, whereas her father is not necessarily Career-material himself.

Once Annie is in the kitchen, she starts making breakfast. Not much is said between father and daughter, basically because neither really knows what to say to each other. Mornings are especially quiet, sometimes because for Annie, it's emotionally tiring bringing up the events of the latest night's visceral dreams of poisoned bodies, slit throats, exploding limbs or drowning lives. Those have been her constant nightmares. It's not something she really can discuss with her father, or anyone else for that matter. Sure, there are victors around her that may have that in common, but it's not as if they wish to compare nightmares that will never really go away.

"Annie?" her father asks. Annie turns to her father, who looks like he's been waiting for her to speak. _Did he ask me something_, she wonders. "Do you have to go? I mean, to the Capitol?" her father repeats, even though she didn't hear him the first time.

She looks at him, perplexed, as if trying to concentrate on the words that he had just said. It takes her another few seconds to form a response. "Yes, dad. I have to go. I'm a mentor," she says almost mechanically.

"Oh," is all her father can respond with. Annie gives out a chortle, but her father doesn't hear it. The rest of the morning drags on as Annie tries to prepare for her travel to the Capitol yet again. But her bag where all her clothes are supposed to be is only holding some underwear. This will be the first time she's had to bring clothes of her own. The only problem is that she doesn't know what clothes to bring, or how many. She's not sure how long she would have to be there. Sometime during the process of packing, she stops thinking about what to bring and starts thinking about what kinds of horrific deaths await those going in.

The deaths of the tributes in her Games, and even some of the previous Hunger Games before hers play into her head repeatedly. Sometimes in brief flashes, and sometimes longer if she can't stop it. The girl from District 7 bludgeoned by a mace. The boy from District 10 slowly being eaten by poisonous lizards. Lev, his head falling to the ground after being decapitated right in front of her eyes. Then she hears their voices, their shouts for help, and their screams.

The next thing she knows, someone is trying to pull at her wrists. She doesn't understand what is going on until she opens her eyes and sees Finnick kneeling down in front of her, his face fraught with worry. Annie's father stands at the doorway, but doesn't come in, unsure of what to do. Annie stops screaming, but she is confused. "Finnick?"

"Hey, what happened, Annie?" Finnick asks, his hands cup her face, trying to keep her steady. She grips at his arms and shakes her head.

"I don't know. I was… awake," she says. It doesn't make any sense to her. She knows she was awake only minutes ago, packing, or trying to pack, but she couldn't get the thoughts out of her head about what had happened in the Games and what will happen again. Usually images like these only come at night, when she's asleep, when she's expecting it to happen. "I was awake, Finnick," Annie repeats. Then it hits her and her confusion turns to fear. She is now having nightmares with eyes open. Her nightmares have turned into daymares. _No, it's worse than that_, she thinks. 'Turning' would mean that she no longer experiences them at night, when that's far from the truth. The realization that she's able to unknowingly bring up images while wide awake rattles her to the core. "Why am I having nightmares when I'm awake, Finnick?" Annie's hands begin to tremble uncontrollably. "What's happening to me?"

Annie's tears fall from her eyes, down her face, onto Finnick's hands, until he moves in to wrap his arms around her. She hides herself in his embrace, with her face, covered with long strands of her hair, burying into the crook of his neck.

'_Why' indeed_, thinks Finnick. _Why is this happening to her? As if there aren't enough traumas in her life already, now let's add daymares to the list?_ He wants to yell out in frustration, but that won't help the situation at all. He knows that Annie doesn't need him to break down with her, but to be her anchor, to keep her steady. So, Finnick continues holding her, rocking her gently and stroking her back, hoping that he's actually doing something helpful for her at that moment.

"Finnick," says Annie softly.

"Hmm?" replies Finnick, still holding her.

"I don't think I can be a mentor," says Annie.

Finnick doesn't say anything immediately, basically because he doesn't think she can, either. And if he says so, if he lies to her, he knows she'll be able to decipher his lie. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Because I have to do it anyway," says Annie. Finnick is quiet, but he sighs and nods his head. Since her head is still buried in the crook of his neck, she can feel his answer as he nods. She wishes she can ask him to be there with her while at the Capitol, but because of Finnick's reputation during previous games, despite his mentorship to her at last year's games, she knows she can't ask him that. Not after what had happened at the Victory Tour. She knows that what he does in the Capitol is something of a game in itself for him. One that he sorely despises playing, maybe even more so than the Games that brought him there in the first place. It's a truly horrific thought, but that thought finally brings her back to steadfastness.

Annie pulls back, and hey eyes are looking straight into Finnick's eyes. She was in this same situation before, back on the train during the Victory Tour where she was being held by him then, too. But that was in the middle of the night and it was dark in her room. This time, in the light of day, she can see the expression on his face, and the darkened, tired circles under his eyes, as if he had not been sleeping at all. On the train, it was her who had removed herself from his embrace, a little embarrassed. This time, it's Finnick who turns his eyes away and separates himself from her.

"C'mon, let me help you up," he says as he pulls himself up from the floor and puts his hand out in front of her. She slides it into his without hesitation and she's off the floor with ease. But as Finnick is about to let go, she grips his hand tighter and he looks at her questioningly. Knowing that she'll be alone again, even just to pack, sends chills through her.

"Can you… just stay. Until I finish packing?" Annie asks quietly.

This time, Finnick is unsure. "Your dad can maybe help…" he says, but Annie shakes her head.

"Please?" asks Annie quietly. Although Annie loves and cares for her dad, this isn't something that she can find comfort in from him, and he only just proved it some minutes ago when all he could do was stand there at the door while Finnick held her. Finnick hears the emotion in her plea and knows he can't leave her now when she's asking him to stay. Finnick nods his head.

He's not sure whether to sit on the end of her bed or just lean against a wall or something, but as he looks around, he sees the balcony door and walks toward it. From there, he can see exactly what she sees. It's a beautiful site, really. He has a similar view from his balcony window, but on his side, there's more activity because his view takes in the harbor of the town square as well. From this side, Annie's house overlooks the Victor's Beach, thus less traffic and less people. So quiet, so peaceful.

"Why are you smiling?" Annie asks. He didn't notice that she moved to stand right next to him, staring at his smile.

"Sorry, was I?" he says as the smile fades.

"Don't be. It's nice to see you smile. It was… real," she admits. She looks out in the direction he was looking. "I see you out there a lot in the mornings. You were there earlier today, weren't you?"

Finnick smiles again. "Yeah, it relaxes me. Helps me to…" he tries to find the right word for what he's thinking while he's on the boat.

"Find yourself again?" she concludes. Finnick turns his head to look at her, somewhat amazed at her perception of him.

"Yeah, I guess so," he admits. Then he refocuses on the current situation. "You ready?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she says back. He gives off a chuckle of his own and decides to help bring her bag down the stairs for her.

As he gathers his own things back at his house, he wonders just how perceptive Annie is. What she knows about him after their times together, during training, during the Victory Tour, and that awful final night at the Capitol. Just the thought of it brings a scowl back on his face. He's glad to at least have left the house before thinking about it.

He remembers it as if it just happened last night. He had hoped that Annie was hiding in some other part of the Banquet Room when he left with the redhead. Nukhee was her name. He only remembers it because he has been trying so hard to forget it. He had done what was requested of him by President Snow, played his role as he normally does during the Games. But it was all for naught. He wouldn't have known either way if Nukhee hadn't said anything. But she did.

"Where _do_ you get these beautiful roses?" she asked. "They smell so deliciously sweet."

"There's only one place to get them, darling," he said as he hid his disgust about those roses behind his Capitol grin. "The president only hands them out to those that give something in return, right?" he continued, hinting at the reason for their interlude, but her face brightened up in girlish surprise.

"Oh, you know the president, of course! I so wanted to meet him tonight, but then you came along…" and she giggled as she stroked Finnick's arm teasingly.

Finnick never questioned the president's assignments. He didn't want to know the reason or the cause for why Snow assigned him all these women. He assumed it was for money or a tradeoff of something else more valuable. But all the women knew President Snow. All the women he had been with had made a deal with Snow personally. So, how could Nukhee not be on a first-person basis with Snow?

"I have to go," he uttered. At that moment, Finnick found himself dressed and out of Nukhee's place without so much as a goodbye kiss.

As he headed back to the train, he went through the conversation with Snow in his head and came to one dreadful conclusion. That Snow might not have ever intended to recruit Annie at all, but because Finnick had come in to meet him with such an arrogant attitude, Snow found a way to manipulate Finnick yet again. It was so easy, too, for Snow. He could manipulate others to do his bidding as long as there were people that they cared about, that they loved. Finnick loved his parents. Snow used that to his advantage. Now Snow did it again, and this time, Finnick knew it was just a warning.

By the time Finnick had gotten on the train, where everyone had been waiting for him, he was so emotionally worn from the events of that evening as well as the whole tour that he wanted so badly to just sleep and never wake up. Then he paused in front of Annie's room. Annie sat there on the side of her bed, her head slightly tilted. She looked at him with sad eyes, but didn't say a word. He didn't either. He simply put his head down and went to his room. He didn't come out until they arrived back in District 4.

Since then, Finnick had not been able bring himself to look Annie in the eyes. And the rare occasion where he was instructed back to the Capitol in the months after the tour, it was always hard for him the few days after to pretend that nothing was wrong. He would spend his mornings on his boat doing just what Annie had perceived. Finding himself again. Each return became harder than the last.

Now Annie will be with him again on this trip. He doesn't know how she'll take it, being there as a mentor. Having to watch the gruesome acts of violence displayed on the screens in the remake center will be hard, no doubt. But he knows he won't be able to spend much time there with her. He knows the president will keep him busy with an assignment or two or three, however many he wants to assign him. It was his agreement, after all. To take on more assignments so that Annie wouldn't have to. At least that's what the agreement was, but Finnick will never know for sure if President Snow had actually wanted Annie in the first place. And after what happened earlier today, he knows Annie would not have been able to do it even if it meant her life.

"You know, the way you're bounding down the stairs, someone would think you were actually excited to go," Turlach says as Finnick makes his way down the stairs.

"It's not excitement that you're seeing," replies Finnick. Finnick looks at his big brother who wears a concerned look on his face. They've gotten along pretty well since their parents died, maybe even more because of that. But lately, with Finnick having to go to the Capitol more than once a year, Turlach can see the affect it's having on Finnick and it's not good. Finnick's declining optimism and the fact that he has been waking up more in the middle of the night in the days after coming back from one night at the Capitol.

"What is it, then?" asks Turlach.

Finnick shrugs his shoulders, and answers "Anxiety? I honestly don't know. I'm still trying to figure things out myself."

"And you can't do that here in District 4?" asks Turlach somewhat impatiently.

"No, not now. I have to be there," Finnick pauses.

"So you can add another set of women to your 'list'?" Turlach says pompously. Finnick doesn't look at Turlach, but Turlach feels his regret right after the words came out of his mouth. "Sorry-"

"No, you're right," Finnick cuts him off. "That's exactly why I have to go, to give as many women as possible the pleasure they so desire from me."

"You know that's not true. I'm just frustrated because I know you're keeping things from me," says Turlach. He stands in front of his little brother, forcing Finnick to face him, to look him in the eye. "You're my little brother. I'm supposed to watch out for you, aren't I?"

"Are you?" asks Finnick. Turlach isn't exactly sure if Finnick is implying something, but he feels the slight ache in his heart anyway. He wants to ask Finnick what he means, but at the last second, decides against it. If it is what he thinks it is, he'd rather not know. He'd rather not be reminded by his little brother the fact that he didn't volunteer to take Finnick's place when Finnick's name was called in the reaping 5 years ago. Instead, he sighs and just stands aside to let Finnick go. Finnick puts his hand on Turlach's shoulder, and Turlach hesitantly looks back at Finnick. "Yes, you are. But I still need to go to the Capitol. Annie still needs my help, you know that."

Turlach nods. "Then help her."

"Can you keep an eye on her dad?" asks Finnick. Turlach would've done it anyway, but having Finnick ask him for help gives him a considerable sense of usefulness that he hasn't felt in a while, especially from his little brother. Turlach repeats the gesture and place his hand on Finnick's shoulder.

"Sure, I can do that. Take care of yourself over there, okay? I heard those Capitol women can be really demanding," Turlach jokes half-heartedly. Finnick curls his lip in that fake confident smile he sees when Finnick is on the television.

"You know I will."

They walk out of the village, just as everyone else does, and heads towards the square for the reaping of the 71st Annual Hunger Games.

In his head, Finnick hears the question he asked Annie earlier. _"You ready?" _

"Yeah, I guess so," he whispers to himself.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**____**Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

Chapter 8: Mentor

Finnick wakes up under the silken sheets of a bed not familiar to him, and tries to remember where he is. When he does, he tries to prevent his groan of disgust to escape his lips so as not to wake the sleeping body next to him. He could tell from the light coming through the window that the sun is just about to break over horizon. The pale-blue-skinned woman named Sapphire Welsh doesn't move at all, so he makes his way out of the bed, dresses himself and washes his face as quietly as he can before heading out the door. He wants to take a shower, but not here, for fear of waking up the woman of great wealth, but of horrid temperament. And that's when he sees it. The television is on, as they are required to be on during the Games, so it is unavoidable, and what he sees on the screen stops him. He feels his heart race faster and he forgets to take a breath for several seconds.

There, on the screen, is Iona, the District 4 female tribute. Annie's tribute. At least he thinks it is Iona, but he can't really tell because of the blood and dirt covering her face. Unfortunately, it looks that Iona is fighting a losing battle against 2 small bear-like creatures. Finnick, as do the whole of Panem, knows these are muttations, because bears do not naturally have metal claws or teeth. Finnick searches the screen, but sees that no one else is around her, which is odd, because there should be the other Careers.

Careers from Districts 1, 2 and 4 usually form an alliance together to at least survive the early part of the Games. He wonders what happened to the others – if they already died. He knows in the beginning of the Games, Iona and Bram, the boy tribute, had agreed to ally with Districts 1 and 2, as is custom throughout many Hunger Games. But obviously, something happened, and Finnick doesn't know what. There are many ways to die in the arena and it doesn't have to be from the hands of another tribute. They could've gotten killed in some crazy gamemaker disaster, like what happened last year when the earthquake hit. Just then, he sees the message scrolling at the bottom of the screen. And it's letting him know that this scene is a re-broadcasting of what had happened a few hours ago.

He rushes out the door without a second thought. No drawn out hugs or soft kisses or lingering moments of intimacy for Sapphire to remember him by. Finnick's concern is far away from Sapphire or himself or any kind of agreement that was made between the woman and President Snow. He feels a heat rising in him as his pace quickens into a run through the streets to get to the Games Headquarters. Every screen on and around the streets show the same exact scene, which only urges him on to run faster, get there sooner. It's as if he can hear Annie's pained voice. He can only imagine how frantic she may be, and if she's crying or screaming or doing anything but keeping calm.

Once he gets there, he immediately rushes in the headquarters. The place is surrounded by a multitude of people. Some are victors, but many are sponsors looking to see how their tribute is doing, watching on one of the dozens of screens surrounding the room as well as giving what they can to the mentors for their tributes' gifts. The mentors are in their designated areas where they push buttons to release the parachutes, or at least the mentors whose tributes are still alive. Finnick heads toward where the District 4 area is, trying as politely as possible to get through in a quick pace, and searching. People want to talk to him, to shake his hand, to give him a hug or even a kiss or anything they can to gain his attention. All he wants to do is find Annie. But he doesn't see her. And he doesn't see Mags either. Who he does see is Haymitch, who is talking to another victor from their district. When he catches Haymitch's attention, Haymitch waves him over, his eyes dazed with drink, yet trying to focus.

"Haymitch! Where's Annie? Where's Mags? I saw it on TV, but only just now and I saw Iona and… what happened?" he asks, trying hard not to sound frantic.

"Ain't ever seen it happen before," says Haymitch, who never seems to be without a glass in at least one of his hands, and is barely able to look directly at Finnick because he's just so drunk. Finnick already knows that the District 12 tributes were killed at the Cornucopia, again.

"Ain't ever seen what happen before?" asks Finnick more impatiently now.

"Annie was trying to keep Iona alive, all right. She was sending her the gifts," says Haymitch.

"Yes, that's what she's supposed to do," Finnick says in a huff.

"Right. But there was no strategy, no method. She just kept sending the gifts once they were available," says Haymitch as he furrows his brow.

Haymitch tries to recall as much as he can about the past couple of days since the Games started. How Annie was taking it in, how she was reacting, what she was doing. But none of it is helping to ease Finnick's concern about how Annie is dealing with everything now. Haymitch really had no interest in watching the games, nor could he remember much about them anyway. The only thing he could remember was that Annie, for whatever reason, lost control of herself. Once Iona was screaming during the mutt-bear attack, Annie started pushing all the buttons and released whatever gifts there were left for her to push. How, when all the gifts had already been released, she kept screaming "No, there's more." Her pleas to the sponsors were useless at that point.

This room was designed for each mentor to have their own screen showing their tribute, wherever he or she was in the arena. The bottom of the screen would show a row of the gifts in squares for that tribute and all the mentor had to do was touch that square on the screen to release the gift onto a parachute for the tribute to receive. Some mentors allied with each other often, such as those between Districts 1, 2, and 4. Other mentors dealt with it on their own, which obviously made it more of a challenge. The hard part of being a mentor was staying awake the whole time of the Games. A mentor would usually at least pair up with their fellow district mentor, at least in the beginning.

The Capitol provides a tonic for the mentors that would help them stay awake if needed, but everyone knows that your brain needs sleep or you start doing, acting or seeing strange things. So, most mentors avoid the stuff and would risk a couple of hours here and there, basically aligning their sleep schedule with their tribute, if possible.

With Annie the way that she was before she even arrived at the Capitol as mentor, it was no wonder to Finnick that something like this would happen. And yet, for all the times he told himself he would be there for her, this might've been the most critical. And he wasn't there. He was in some strange woman's bedroom, entertaining her because President Snow ordered it. Finnick knows that he really can't be blamed for not being there. He knows he has to do it or suffer the consequences. Still, he can't help but feel the weight of guilt pushing him further down a path that he's been struggling with since his own name was called as tribute 7 years ago.

"Even after she released all the parachutes, she still kept looking for something else to come, for more gifts," says Haymitch.

Haymitch remembers one other thing, but even in his drunken stupor, he can't bring himself to tell Finnick what Annie's last words were before they took her out. After all, Finnick is a friend, a trustworthy friend to Haymitch. He knows what Finnick has been through, what he's going through and what he's being forced to do. Haymitch should know. Haymitch lost everything because he didn't play by the rules, and he knows Finnick lost his parents because Finnick didn't originally want to play by Snow's rules either. Haymitch isn't one for being sentimental, but the memory of Annie's defeated figure on the floor, calling out Finnick's name for help, just like she did in the arena last year, just didn't seem like something that would give Finnick any kind of encouragement. And now, he can already tell by the look on Finnick's face that he's heard enough.

Haymitch tells Finnick they sedated her and brought her back to the Training Center. Finnick nods at Haymitch in a show of gratitude before leaving Haymitch to his drink. Haymitch sighs before taking another big sip of his drink. _One of these days, when everything falls into place, we're going to stop this thing. Don't worry, Finnick. There'll be no more Hunger Games. _Those are Haymitch's final thoughts before the alcohol takes over all reason.

As Finnick rushes out, he can't help but recall all that's happened in the past 7 years. His name being called. His parents and brother giving what they knew to be their possible last hugs and kisses to him at the justice building. Meeting Mags for the first time. His first kill in the arena. The feel of the blood on his hands, as well as the fear and slight pride in being able to do it. His first meeting with President Snow, the man who started him on this path of "charitable causes." Finnick brings to memory even more events, causing the nails in his clenched fists to dig into his palm, making small impressions. Be barely feels it. His nails dig in deeper with each passing memory. His first time as mentor. His refusal to take on President Snow's "request." The funeral of his parents.

The doors open to level 4 of the Training Center and Finnick steps out and he's greeted by an avox, whose confusion about Finnick being there shows in his eyes. Normally, only those directly involved with the tributes are allowed on the floors, but since both District 4 tributes are dead, it no longer matters. Finnick heads to where he knows the mentors' rooms are.

"Annie? Mags?" he half shouts. When he enters one of the rooms, he sees Mags on the bed, sleeping. He steps in slightly, checking to see any sign of movement. The long days and nights of staying up have put its mark on her, because as Finnick comes closer, he hears her breathing, almost snoring. Signs of a person deep in sleep. He bends down beside her bed and cautiously picks up her hand in his and gives it a light kiss.

He could never thank Mags enough for being there. Mags volunteered herself to be the other mentor for the boy tribute. At first, Finnick was confused as to why she would do such a thing as to volunteer when she didn't even like going to the Capitol and actually hadn't been here since her time mentoring him. Although it's not actually mandatory for previous victors to be at the Capitol for the Hunger Games each year, it's almost certain that a tragic accident can befall any of a victor's loved ones if the victor's attendance is desired and they are not there. Given that Mags is neither young nor attractive, thus making her presence unpleasant to the Capitol citizens, she is basically safe from threat of harm.

Many of the victors go anyway, even if their presence isn't preferred or needed as a mentor. Some of them have formed actual friendships with other victors from other districts and the annual Games is, unfortunately, the one time each year in which they can meet with each other in person. This is how Finnick had first met Haymitch and Beetee, the older man from District 3. Through the years, their friendship strengthened, finding a commonality in each other's past tragedies. It may not be the most ideal way to form a bond, but it definitely made for a solid unity.

"Mags, what are you doing?" he asked her as they walked toward the train on the day of the reaping, she in the car with the tributes and Annie and Tessa, he in another car with the other victors.

"You know, I could do with some girl bonding," Mags said. It was true, though. There weren't a lot of female victors, and Mags seemed more comfortable with Annie than with the others. Finnick wondered if Mags felt sorry for Annie, but Mags wouldn't say so even if he did ask.

Mags patted Finnick's arm and pulled Annie to her side as they both went in. Annie looked over her shoulder, her eyes lost in confusion.

"I'll see you when we get there," Finnick said, trying to reassure her that he was still going to be close. Unfortunately, he wasn't able to do much for Annie once they arrived at the Capitol.

It turned out to be a blessing for Finnick that Mags had volunteered. He was so busy with President Snow's assignments that he didn't have much time to spend at headquarters to watch of the Games with them. They weren't even there for 3 days yet and Finnick had already gone to meet with 2 women. He was almost glad that he didn't see Annie; because he had a feeling he would have that same awkward and shameful emotion running through him, much like he did at the President's mansion during the Victory Tour.

When he gets to the other room, he's expecting to see more of the same - a sleeping woman knocked out from the stress the Games can have, as well as being heavily sedated. Instead, Annie is sitting up on her bed with her back against the wall. Her arms are wrapped around her legs that are folded up against her chest. Annie is wide awake, but her eyes are in a daze. The sight of her makes Finnick's stomach drop. She looks almost as if she had just come out of the arena herself. Not as dirty, but there are dark circles underneath her eyes from lack of sleep and her skin looks more pale than when they first arrived there. Annie's hair is no longer put up in some kind of ponytail or Capitol design, but hangs loosely around her shoulders, with strands of it spread across her face.

"Annie?" Finnick says calmly to her as he moves closer, careful not to alarm her. Annie's eyes stay unfocused at his first few attempts to call her. Only until he's close enough to touch her does she notice him.

"Finnick?" she says in a half-confused, half-surprised tone.

"Hey, I thought you'd be asleep," he says, using a safe phrase that hopefully won't bring her into a state of panic.

"Finnick, I think I messed up," Annie says somberly. Finnick sits on the edge of the bed, shifting sideways so that he's facing her.

"You did what you could, though, didn't you? You tried," Finnick responds. Given her state of mind, he would never cast the fault on her, even though he knows others will. Even though he knows that Annie will as well. He can see her eyes shift from side to side, trying to settle on something to keep her mind focused.

Annie shakes her head as the expression on her face changes from that of despair to something more like a fearful child. An image of Iona fades into her mind. Iona's eyes looking up at a camera that she can't see but knows is there, mouthing out something. Annie's name. As the image repeats in her mind, adding more and more of the scene each time, with the mutt-bears and Iona's last screams for help, she's trying desperately to rid the sound of the screaming in her ears. A sound that only she can hear now. Annie's hands are already closing around her ears.

Somehow, she manages to notice again that Finnick is there, so she tries to continue with the conversation, speaking louder to get through the screams. She vaguely remembers what he just said, something about doing all she could.

"No. It was too hard. I couldn't focus. I couldn't tell what was real. I was trying to help! I don't remember… I don't want to… please stop– ", Annie says before Finnick finally cuts her off. Not by words, but by action. She doesn't notice him move from the edge of the bed to the space next to her, but he's there, putting his arms around her shoulders, pulling her head against his chest. She doesn't notice the tears that fall down her face and onto Finnick's shirt, yet she wonders why there are spots there. She smells the faint scent of an overly sweet rose and fruits and smoke and for no reason laughs between her fit of sobs.

Finnick can't register all that's happening to Annie. All he can do is hold her now. That's all that he's been able to do, it seems, and he knows it's not enough. It will never be enough to ward away the demons that invade her mind. The images of people dying, mutts, blood, nightmares, & daymares. Everything. As hard as he's been trying since the time Annie became a victor, he can no longer stop it. Slowly, painfully, the emotion that he's tried so hard to keep inside is forcing its way out of him. He doesn't know what to call it, but sadness, anger, and helplessness are involved. Finally, he relents and allows the tears he has refused to shed before to find their way out and fall.

Silently, he cries with her. Because with all the pain that she is carrying within her, he can no longer see how she will ever be happy again. He knows that whatever joy she had was ripped from her life and left in the arena. That is the probable fate of all who go in there. That is still the fate for him as well. And he can't do anything about it. He clutches onto Annie, stroking her hair.

In this one moment of shared anguish, here in the Training Center, in the Capitol, he somehow allows himself to become the Finnick Odair of District 4, who once had parents who loved him dearly and showed him what it is to truly care. He strokes Annie's long dark hair, noticing the softness of it, and finds a sliver of comfort in the smooth strands that glide between his fingers. It could've been minutes or hours when Annie finally stops crying, but he doesn't notice the distance of time. What he does notice is that this simple movement, this tender caress, seems to soothe her as well as him.

Annie begins to succumb to her body's need for rest. In that moment where sleep begins to overcome her, she fights it off long enough to murmur three words. "You smell bad."

Finnick tries to figure out if what she said is exactly what he heard. Then he remembers that he hadn't taken a shower yet, so he must smell of an unpleasant mixture of the previous night's party he had to attend and Sapphire's horridly sweet perfume. _Of all the things she could say, she says that_, he thinks. He chuckles only lightly, which diffuses some of his sorrow. He doesn't know how far this respite will take him, so he's not optimistic, but he blocks out the thoughts of potential worse things ahead from his mind. He will only think of now.

"I know. I'm sorry," he replies, unsure of whether she hears it, because Annie has fallen asleep in his arms.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**__**Hunger Games (5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

* * *

><p>Chapter 9: The Beach<p>

_She doesn't seem as fragile and sweet as people said she was in the arena_, thinks Finnick. Her eyes have a darkness in them that reminds Finnick of the community kids whose parents are both dead. Those are the types that apparently have had to defend themselves against bullies both young and old. That's what Johanna Mason looks like to Finnick. And he is right in thinking so. He's never spoken to her, but he remembered that during her interview. _She really is from the community home_, he thinks to himself.

Finnick didn't see much of the games, but what is known is that Johanna Mason is from District 7, and she feigned being a shy, scared, weakling of a girl in the Games. It took a while for the other tributes to realize that she really wasn't as weak as they thought she was. In fact, each group that surrounded her ended up bloodied and dead or dying by the time she was done chopping away at them with her ax and knife. She used their ignorance as a weapon, and it worked splendidly for her.

Now, it's Johanna's Victory Tour and she's just arrived to the town square. Finnick stands with Turlach and the other victors, including Annie and Mags, as she reads through the standard script that undoubtedly was written up by her escort. Even with all the stylish clothes, beautiful make-up, and done up hair as the style teams always excel at, he can tell that Johanna is either bored or masking something. He gives her the benefit of the doubt and chooses the latter. _What kind of secrets is she hiding? _

When she finishes her statement, everyone applauds politely. The crowds starts dispersing, going back to their usual business or preparing for the dinner festivities that they are supposed to have during the Victory Tour visit. For some reason, he waits to see what Johanna's next action is, whether she'll slink back in indignity into the justice building, or if she'll walk away with her chin up in pride, not fearing anyone or anything. To him, it may determine what kind of person she is.

"She hates them," whispers Annie, but Finnick is concentrating on Johanna's actions that he misses it.

"What?" asks Finnick, and he turns to look at Annie. Annie's eyes are elsewhere, but he doesn't bother to look and find out what she's focusing on.

"Johanna Mason, victor of the 71st Hunger Games," Annie says in a sort of mimic of Claudius Templesmith's way of announcing, but much softer. "She hates them and they don't like her."

Finnick looks around to see if any of the peacekeepers are within listening range, but hardly any of them are paying attention. It seems that Annie may be right, because most of the peacekeeper eyes are on Johanna as well, also waiting to see what her next move will be. That's what Annie is looking at, Finnick concludes. She's looking at the peacekeepers and their reaction, or looking at one peacekeeper in particular. Finnick finally shifts his gaze in the same direction as Annie's, and he locks eyes with head peacekeeper Garcen. _What is he staring at?_ thinks Finnick.

Johanna finally steps away from the microphone, but slowly. Garcen turns his head back to the District 7 victor and his face hardens as he concentrates on Johanna. Finnick looks back to her as well. Even Johanna's escort seems to be keeping an eye out for Johanna, but not as if she's guarding her. It's more like Johanna's escort is afraid of her, because every move that Johanna makes seems to cause her escort to step back just a little more, distancing the space between herself and Johanna.

Johanna's eyes finally connect with Finnick's, basically because he, Annie, and a few other victors are the only ones still looking at her, unmoving. Even from this distance of 20 yards away, he can see a slight upward curl of her lips. Not a jovial smile, but more like a smile that hints at mischief. Better yet, defiance. Finnick nods back at Johanna, just before Johanna's unceremoniously ushered back into the building.

They, too, are told to leave. Peacekeepers are obviously not too comfortable with a group of victors hanging around together, especially in the town square, even if it includes a troubled girl and an old lady. Finnick just eyes the peacekeepers coolly, giving them a look of warning, which is not graciously received. He looks for Garcen one last time, but Garcen is not within sight anymore.

"Just get going," says one of them mildly.

Annie steps aside to avoid having any contact with the peacekeepers that are nearby and she walks hurriedly between Finnick and her father, who has just joined them, walking back to the victor's village. For Finnick, these few months after the 71st Hunger Games have actually been the best so far in developing a consistent friendship with Annie Cresta. It's still not as well as it could be, but Annie has finally regarded him as someone that she can talk to and open up with about many things, including the violent images that rattle in her mind.

Luckily, Annie's father, even though he has a hard time dealing with her fits of emotional breakdowns, as well as his own handicap, has been able to help out in some simple everyday tasks, such as cooking.

It happened a month ago. Annie's dad had gone into town to get some shellfish in the market when Annie decided to fry some catfish. Annie knew Finnick was coming over because he came over almost daily, but he made it a point to let her know this time he was coming over so they could eat lunch together.

The only times he doesn't come by are the few days after a return from one of his Capitol visits, which isn't too often, but even one visit is enough to remind her of Finnick's involvement with the President. She would never ask him, but knows there is more to his visits to the Capitol than he would ever want to admit. She has a feeling that not very many people know of his visits there. He never announces it or tells her he is leaving. He just leaves discreetly, in the early hours of the evening, and he returns the very next day. But every time he comes back, it's always a struggle for both of them to see the other.

She doesn't know why, but sometimes, that part of her chest where her heart is, aches just thinking about it. As if there is something going on between them when there isn't. She only knew him as a mentor, and now, a friend. But still, she can't help the longing she feels the days after his returns.

So, in that one afternoon, her mind raced to find something else to think about, because thinking of him on one of his Capitol visits wasn't something that she cared to explore further. In her desperation, her thoughts wandered involuntarily into the numerous images that have often kept her company at night. Those thoughts, combined with the sizzling sound of the fish on the frying pan transfixed her to a memory that she had kept in the back of her mind shot forth in front of her eyes. It was of a boy. Of what age or from what district, she couldn't say. But he had triggered some kind of trap. She doesn't remember if she was with him or if this was part of another Games that she had seen on television, but it didn't matter, because in her mind, she was always in there, as if she were a tribute. She couldn't replay the whole scene, but flashbacks of acid seeping through the boy's skin and the agonizing cries he made before the acid ate away at his neck and throat causing a combination of sizzling and gurgling sounds were emblazoned in her head. Annie closed her eyes, but that only caused the images to become more vivid.

What she didn't realize at the time she was having this flashback, was that she was holding onto the spatula that had been sitting in hot oil. What was happening in her mind triggered her impulse to fight back, only she was fighting what wasn't really there. She was fighting visions. Had Finnick arrived any later, the damage to her hands and arms would've probably been much worse. Finnick had immediately carried her off to Mags' house. The medical building was on the other side of the town square which is more than a couple of miles away and he didn't trust himself to go that far carrying her.

Finnick had wiped away most of the oil from her face and arms, but he was worried that Annie may have done more damage to herself than he could decipher. Mags had immediately pulled Annie's hands and arms under the cold running water and got some cold, wet rags to wipe away the spots of oil from Annie's face. She told Finnick to keep the cold water running until Mags was satisfied. Eventually, the blisters that developed went away, but that couldn't be said for the images that caused them.

It was then decided that Annie wasn't to cook anymore without someone else being there with her. So, Annie's father took up the task. Although the idea of not being able to do certain things on her own anymore was frustrating, Annie knew it was for her own safety. But the real positive outlook of it was that Annie's father had found something useful to do again. As minor a chore as it was, he felt like a father once more. He felt needed again. It had been a long time since he had felt that way, even before Annie was in the Games.

As they make their way back to the village, Annie all of a sudden gives a short, haughty laugh, as if she had just heard or seen something funny, although no one was really doing or saying anything humorous. This happens every once in a while, and most everyone has gotten used to her unexpected bursts, but only few know why she does it. Somehow her actions are a bit more delayed than everyone else's.

"What is it, Annie?" asks Finnick, trying to act genuinely curious.

"Johanna smiled at you," says Annie. It happened 30 minutes ago, when they were still at the square, when he was waiting to see what Johanna would do after her speech. Sometimes Annie laughs at something that happened 10 minutes earlier. Sometimes she laughs at something that happened over a day ago. There's no telling where her mind is sometimes, but Finnick tries to keep Annie in the present time.

"Annie," says Finnick, waiting for a response. Nothing comes. He says her name again. "Annie."

"Hmm?" grunts Annie. Finnick gently tugs on Annie's elbow and they both stop in the middle of the path. He pulls her around to face him. It takes a while for her eyes to stop shifting around, but when they finally do, her eyes focus on him. "Finnick," she says with a gentle smile.

"Hey there," he says with a smile in return.

"Sorry. It happened again?" Annie asks, looking remorseful.

"That's okay, you're getting better," he says and they continue walking. He pulls her closer to him when they start walking again, his arm around her, but unease creeps in and he wonders if maybe he should let go now. She doesn't say anything but she's quiet, and that makes him nervous, so after a few more seconds he lets go.

"Finnick?" says Annie in a curious tone. Just having her say his name immediately releases the tension in Finnick's shoulders.

"Yes," he responds.

"I want to try the beach tomorrow," says Annie.

The beach. Despite having the beach as their backyards for the most part, Annie hasn't actually stepped into the ocean water since her victory, let alone the sand. That was one thing that she was terrified of doing. It was already bad enough that she was, and still is, experiencing nightmares on a consistent basis, so she didn't want to make it worse by setting off another possible set of new nightmares by willing herself closer to the waves than she had to be.

But she was already so close. _What is another 50 yards going to do anyway, right?_ She thought. Finnick had also been trying to get her to go without success.

One time, during a warm Saturday, he joked about doing something he was scared to do if she would start taking walks out there. She didn't know why it was important to him for her to do it.

"You're not scared of anything," said Annie blankly.

"Sure, I am," said Finnick.

"What are you scared of?" she asked.

He honestly couldn't think of anything that he was scared of, but he picked a common phobia just to prove her wrong, even if it was in jest. "Roaches," he replied.

"No, you're not. You caught a handful and ate them in your Games. It was disgusting," Annie said as she laughed.

There were two things that came to mind to Finnick that day. The first was that Annie laughed. It wasn't one of her chuckles or huffs that she did in delayed reaction. It was a genuine full-hearted laugh that he had never heard from her before. It was a laugh from a girl who sounded unaffected and undamaged by tragedy and pain and constant nightmares, and it was amazing. The other was that she actually remembered such a minute part of his Games. He had only done it once just to prove that he could to the other Careers. He did remember it was disgusting, too. He laughed with her then, and couldn't help but put out a huge smile on his face.

"Okay, maybe I'm not _scared_ of roaches, but I don't particularly like them," Finnick said.

After the laughter died down, Annie got up out of her chair, took their dishes from the table and put it in the sink.

"So, what do you think?" asked Finnick. He still wanted to see if she was willing to go into the water.

"What do I think of what?" questioned Annie.

"Going for a walk on the beach," said Finnick matter-of-factly. Annie turned to look at him, a look of dread on her face. She shook her head almost vehemently.

"No, no. Finnick, I can't…not yet," she said.

"Alright, no problem. It was just a thought," he assured her as he grabbed her hand. His thumb circled the top of her hand to soothe her, and it helped. She squeezed back.

Now Finnick is trying to remember when exactly that happened. About a month or two ago, he can't be certain. But she is willing to try it. For real, this time. He didn't have to offer any ultimatum either, she just wants to do it. _Don't get your hopes up,_ Finnick tells himself. Annie might change her mind in the morning. Or she might not even remember.

The next day, at a little past 10am, Finnick is at her door, nervously not knowing what to expect and if she really does want to try the beach today. She opens it and a kind smile greets him. His thoughts go to the time she closed the door in his face, not even giving him a chance to see her, and he has to stifle a laugh.

It's a warm spring day, so she's dressed appropriately in shorts and a loose knit top. Finnick is dressed in a plain shirt and swim shorts that cut just above the knees.

"Good morning," says Finnick with genuine cheerfulness. Annie isn't quite as enthusiastic, but greets him with as much genuine joy as she could muster. She notices the blanket he has curled under one of his arms and the pack on his back. Finnick can tell she's nervous, so he tries to distract her. "Have you eaten already?"

"Yes," says Annie. "Have you?"

"Yes," says Finnick, and before the silence between them gets any louder, he continues. "So, you ready to go?" Annie shrugs and nods tentatively, and even though he feels like asking her if she really does want to do this, at the same time he doesn't want to give her any chance to change her mind. So, he allows Annie to pass him at the doorway and step ahead, and he follows her around the side of her house.

The sand literally starts 10 feet away from the picket fence surrounding all the houses. Each house has a patio area in the back, and there are a couple of the other victors out in their patios taking in the fresh air and sun. When Annie and Finnick step out, all eyes focus on them. The looks on their faces tell Finnick that this is probably the first time they've seen Annie on this side of the house, as he can see them talk amongst themselves, some are smiling, some are skeptical. All are curious.

Finnick is already 10 feet in the sand when he realizes that Annie is no longer walking next to him. He turns around and finds her standing at the fence gate, her feet barely touching the sand. Her head is down when he goes back see what's wrong.

"Annie?" he says tentatively. There's a stillness about her and he looks down at the sand. She's wiggling her toes, causing the sand to move in between them.

"Feels weird," she says quietly, barely audible above the sound of the tides.

Finnick tries to think of the time when he and his family first went on the beach. It's not exactly something that the people in District 4 normally do. Even though this district is the fishing district, the sand doesn't surround every part of land here. The victor's village has the advantage there. Most of the other areas are surrounded by ports and rocks, and the little sand that surrounds other parts is not as pristine as the ones here. Still, people would go to the beach if they had the time or the money to do so. Even some merchant families don't have the luxury of time. But many others are working the canneries or the fishing boats from dawn until dusk.

Finnick can't remember feeling unsure of the sand, or the way that it moved under his feet. So, he closes his eyes and just moves his toes, allowing himself to feel the shifting of the tiny pebbles underneath his bare feet. As he continues to do so, he has to agree with Annie that it does have an odd sensation. He lets his toes dig deeper and he can feel the sand turning colder the farther down his feet go, burying his feet in the layer still cool from the night.

He opens his eyes to find Annie already further in. She's about 10 yards ahead when she stops again. When Finnick catches up, her eyes are mournful, and suddenly he's worried that she's in one of her daymares.

"Annie?" says Finnick, lightly touching her back.

She begins stepping backwards, saying "No, too far. I can't."

But Finnick won't let her go all the way back. He stops her, pulling her hand with his free one. "Wait, we don't have to go any farther, okay? But… let's just stay here," says Finnick.

Annie concentrates on his words and it takes a few seconds to register, but when she does, she's still unsure. Unsure of herself. Unsure of Finnick. Unsure of how she'll react if she hears the water getting louder or coming any closer.

"Over there," says Annie, pointing just a few more feet back. Finnick nods, knowing that it's probably the best he can achieve right now on the first try at the beach, and it's more than he thought possible anyway.

Finnick unfolds the blanket and they sit on it and bask in the warmth of the sun for a while before Finnick realizes there's a cool breeze going by. He looks at Annie to see if she's shaking at all. She isn't, but he wants to say something.

"Are you cold?" asks Finnick. Annie shakes her head in dissent.

"Just trying not to think," says Annie.

"Okay, is there anything you want to talk about?" asks Finnick.

"Where's Turlach?" asks Annie. Annie has met Turlach of course, but has never really spoken with him. She only knows him as Finnick's older brother. She knows nothing of what he's like.

"At work, at the cannery," says Finnick. Annie squints at his response.

"He works?" asks Annie.

Finnick smiles because that used to be a question he got from other people when Finnick first moved to the Victor's Village. None of his family had to work because he provided for everyone, but Turlach refused to stop working. "I'm not going to sit around here with nothing to do but swim around like a fool," he said to Finnick once before. Despite the advantage of living in the lap of so-called luxury, Finnick knew that Turlach would never depend on his little brother, not because he was proud, but because Turlach would always carry a weight of guilt on himself. No matter how much work that Turlach would take, it still wouldn't be enough to release that guilt he felt, and Finnick knew it.

"Yeah, he would rather work. He likes to keep himself busy at the cannery. He gets bored easily, I think," he says.

"You do, too," says Annie.

Finnick thinks about it for a few seconds. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Are you bored now? Sitting here with me, doing nothing but watching and waiting to see what I'll do?" asks Annie flatly.

"No, not at all. We can sit here all day if you want. I don't mind," he replies immediately. And she can see in his eyes and how he is smiling at her at that moment that he's being completely truthful. Also, something about what he just said or the way that he said it makes her blush.

"Okay," says Annie, smiling, turning her head slightly away from him so he doesn't see her face.

He notices her head turn, but doesn't say anything. He doesn't know why, but he's so comfortable spending time with Annie, it doesn't seem like a chore or boring act. He wonders if it's the fact that Annie is so unusual, so different. But it's not that she's "unusual," because she wasn't really like this before the Games. It was the Games that caused her to become "unusual." _No, she's not unusual. She's just… injured,_ he thinks. _Damaged._

He again tries to think back, this time to when he was this comfortable with anyone outside of his family. _There's Mags,_ he thinks to himself. Little ol' Mags, unfortunately not feeling well enough to go out today. Mags is probably damaged, too, but has learned to control it all these years. "Tragedies are more bearable with time," that's what she said once.

Finnick continues to search his memories, but they're all focused on his family, which can be hard to deal with if he reminisces far too long about them. So, he concludes that he's far better with damaged people, knowing that he's damaged himself, but he doesn't want to think about that. When Finnick looks at Annie, he can see that the wind has ruffled her hair and she's trying frantically to get it out of her face. Finnick laughs.

"What's so funny?" asks Annie, even though she can already guess what he's laughing about considering that the gust of wind has proven her efforts of gathering her hair together futile.

"Sorry. Do you want some help?" asks Finnick.

"If you have something for my hair," replies Annie. Finnick thinks for a second and feels in his pockets to see if what he knows he has is still in there. When he pulls it out, it's just long enough to tie into a bow around her hair. Finnick helps pull her hair back in a ponytail and starts tying the short rope he cut from a net into a bow. When he's done, he unconsciously combs her hair lightly with his fingers, feeling the silkiness of her hair as he did months ago at the Capitol. _Still soft,_ he thinks.

He can't tell what she's thinking, but he does notice that her body relaxes. Sometimes his actions cause her to freeze, as if she's scared of what he'll do to her next, as if she's anticipating pain. But she doesn't react this way now.

"There, hair is all good," he says as he sits back down and turns to look at her. Instinctively, he grazes her cheek lightly with the back of his forefinger and smiles, "I could see your face now."

The movement is so sudden that it takes her by surprise, but Annie recovers quickly. "Now if only I could cover _your_ face, you're so grotesque," she says jokingly, trying to play off the slight redness in her cheeks in a laugh.

Finnick laughs with her. "I know! Who could ever love a face like this, so disgusting," he says playfully as he gives her a overly exaggerated sensual look. It's hard for her to pretend that she isn't amused by his attempt at humor, and she can only keep up a straight face for exactly two seconds before she breaks out in a burst of laughter. And that's all that Finnick needs to let him know that there is still a part of Annie that hasn't been tainted by the Games.

She tries to shove Finnick's face away in mock disgust, and he catches her hand, holding it in his. Annie finds it interesting, the feel of his hand around hers, the comfort that simple gesture brings to her. She notices the coarseness of his fingers, although it's not as rough as she thought it might be as far as fishermen are concerned. Then unconsciously, she takes his hand in both of hers, observing it even closer. The lines of his palm, the ridges of his fingertips, the shape of his nails. Short, but even and clean. She turns it over and feels the wrinkles of his knuckles and the softness of the top of his hand.

"Your hands are so soft," says Annie. It's almost an accusation, because being in the fishing district, as in probably every other district, really, a man's hands can be torn and calloused from the days of hard manual labor. Being a victor since he was 14, Finnick's never had to work as hard as other fisherman. He doesn't have a quota to reach. In fact, he's really not supposed to be fishing, but it's overlooked by the peacekeepers, even Garcen. Some might think he never works at all, but he's still fit and he still goes out almost every morning on his boat, so that has to count for something. He's certainly not lazy and does a fair share of work when he's on his boat, including his own netting as well as fishing. Finnick isn't insulted, because he knows Annie isn't saying it to be mean, but he can't help feeling a little discomfited about it.

"Is that weird?" he asks.

"I don't know. Not weird. Just… different," she says.

"I see. So you've held many men's hands before, have you?" he asks.

"No," says Annie flatly. Finnick begins to fear that he may have said the wrong thing again, but she doesn't look angrily at him. She just looks out towards the water, observing the swell barely coming up above the sandbar. She swallows hard and says one word. "Lev."

Finnick's mind immediately latches onto the image of the boy associated with that name. Lev, Annie's fellow tribute, who died at the hands of the District 2 tribute. She lost it when Lev died. It could've happened at anytime during the Games and he could've missed it, because half the time he was talking and keeping all the women distracted with his flirtatiousness. _Was she in love with him? Did she have something with him?_ Finnick wonders if that was a possibility. If it was, they didn't show it. He can't help it. He has to ask.

"You held Lev's hand?" asks Finnick. Annie just nods.

"Only once, the first night. His hands were rough and sweaty," says Annie, then her brows furrow with concentration. "That's all I remember of him anymore, but I still see him in my dreams. I can't see his face, but it's him. I can see his hands, but not his face… not his face…"

Finnick squeezes her hand in his, which is a relief for Annie, because it forces her attention back to what is happening now and back to him. "Sorry," says Annie as she looks on at their enclosed hands, as if realizing for the first time that she's holding onto him, and she finally lets go. When she does, she notices that her fingers feel slightly stiff and wonders how long exactly she's been holding onto Finnick's hand.

Finnick and Annie spend a while just sitting there. Nothing is said, but it's not awkward. Both are comfortable enough in each other's company without having to say one word. They just listen to the constant push and pull of the waves that are still a good 40 yards away. "Finnick?" says Annie.

"Hm?"

"How am I doing?" asks Annie.

Finnick looks at her, trying to make out the meaning of the question through her eyes. Annie pulls her knees in, wraps her arms around them and rests the side of her face on it. She looks at him sullenly, waiting for him to answer. Much like he does with people as a way of encouragement or comfort, he gently places his hand on her back, moving it in small circles.

"Annie, I think you're doing just fine," says Finnick honestly and with as much reassurance as he can give.

Annie smiles and closes her eyes, taking in the warmth and comfort of his hand on her back.

When they finally leave the beach, no one else is out in their yards anymore. Finnick asks Annie if she wants to go visit Mags with him, since he was planning on seeing her sometime this day. She agrees, and an hour later, after they both shower, they meet up again and together they go into Mags' house.

When Finnick knocks, there's no answer. He opens the door just slightly to call out Mags' name, but still nothing. It's not unusual for Finnick to come into Mags' house to say hi, but it's more often the other way around since Mags isn't one to dwell all alone waiting for people to visit her. But with Mags ill, he knows they should be okay to help themselves inside. So, when Finnick and Annie finally make their way into the house, they see Mags sitting in the living room.

"Hey Mags," says Finnick. When she doesn't answer back, he cautiously makes his way closer to her. That's when he notices the cup lying sideways next to her slightly open hand, as if it had escaped her grasp, the contents of the mug spilled on the sofa, and small droplets falling in an even pace onto the floor.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**__**Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

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><p>Chapter 10: Missing<p>

Without a moment's hesitation, Finnick's hand is on Mags' pulse point, and he brings his ear close to her mouth, checking for signs of breath. He can barely hear it, but Mags is definitely breathing. She just isn't responding. _How long has she been like this? Just a few minutes, right?_ He thinks to himself, considering the liquid that still drops steadily from the sofa to the floor, but it's slow and is no longer warm. Finnick doesn't notice the subtle sound of whimpering behind him. His focus is completely on Mags.

He knows how far it is to the medical building and he has to move fast, so he takes Mags' unconscious form in his arms. She's doesn't weigh much at all, and that makes her seem more frail now. Since he's never dealt with this kind of thing before, he decides to play it safe and just carry her in his arms, hoping with all his might that he can make it there fast enough.

When Finnick turns around, he acknowledges Annie standing there, looking helpless and upset at what is happening. She has her eyes on Mags' face.

"Annie! Go home! Go home now! I'll come see you when I get back, okay?" says Finnick loudly. Annie doesn't respond. "Annie! Annie!" he says again, louder. Annie's eyes finally give way to look at him. "Go home, please! I'll see you when I get back. I'm going to take Mags to the doctor, so please go home," says Finnick, loud, but slower for Annie's sake. Annie finally nods, but is slow to move.

Finnick is out the door with Mags, running as fast as he possibly can, yet trying to be careful with Mags. He can't afford to fall or trip on anything, so he keeps a pace he can handle.

With only a half mile left to go, his legs begin to stiffen up on him and he feels the pain of his tired calf muscles. The adrenaline is giving way to his body's lowering tolerance. Five minutes later, he's at the hospital entrance, and it takes all he has left to keep from retching until the medical staff retrieves Mags from his arms.

_Stroke_. It's not an unfamiliar word, but it's not something that Finnick has ever had to deal with before. Suffering from a stroke is somewhat uncommon around this district. He supposes it can be the same in other districts. People usually die more from unnatural things than natural – massive loss of blood, gunshot wounds, accidents at work, and drowning. Those are the deaths most common to District 4.

But Mags isn't dead. She'll be okay, the doctor tells Finnick, after what seems like a lifetime of waiting. She may not be able to move around as much or talk as much due to partial paralysis in her facial muscles, but she's alive and Finnick is able to ease the tension in his muscles a bit. The doctor tells him that they will keep her overnight just to keep an eye on her, but that she will probably be released the next day. People don't usually stay in the hospital for too long, especially not victors. They don't have the room for extended stays, especially when there are other people suffering worse fates.

When Finnick enters her room, Mags is connected to an IV and has an oxygen mask on, but is conscious and looking very weary. He knows she's not going to accept any kind of sympathy, but he can't help but feel bad for her. Even though he smiles, his look is remorseful and Mags tries to give him a disgraceful look to show her disapproval. The only problem is that she can barely move her face at all the way she wants to and she really can't talk, so she lies there waiting for Finnick to get closer.

"Hey Mags," says Finnick quietly, yet trying to sound upbeat. "Who told you you could go and get a stroke, hm?"

Finnick pulls a chair close to her bed, grabs hold of her hand and kisses it. Mags moves her hand to his face to give it a light slap, but can only manage a pat on his cheek before it falls lazily on the bed again. Even that simple movement takes great effort for Mags. Finnick sighs.

He gently places her hand in both of his again. "Mags?" She looks at him, her eyes halfway open. "Mags?" Finnick repeats. The remorse is setting in his face again. "I'm sorry," he whispers. "Sorry I wasn't there today. I should've…"

Mags pulls up her other hand in front of him in an effort to stop him from continuing, and gives him a stern look. She doesn't blame him and he knows she won't allow him to blame himself. Not while she's still alive. That's exactly what she would say, too. He nods in understanding and tries to find something else to talk, but he figures his mind must still be in shock because he can barely think past seeing her slouched-over body on the sofa. Still, an image of Annie smiling at him at the beach flashes into his memories.

"Annie and I, we wanted to tell you… we went to the beach today. Can you believe it?"

Mags looks on him now with eyes open wide. If she didn't have the oxygen mask on, she would be able to show that Finnick just given her something to be pleased about. But Finnick does know, because he sees it in her eyes. Finnick smiles back.

"Well, we didn't get very far, really. We just sat on the sand about 10 yards from her backyard. But it's something, right? I wish you could've been there, Mags," says Finnick. After a moment's pause, she moves her fingers in his hand, urging him to continue, so he goes on about what they did and what they talked about. At first it doesn't seem like he'll be able to say much more about it, but then he details almost everything about the morning he spent doing "nothing" with Annie. By the time he's finished, it's well into the evening and one of the nurses is telling him that he has to go home now. He can definitely see it in Mags' eyes that she's tired, but she never let on until now.

"I'll see you soon. Don't go anywhere," jokes Finnick as he leaves Mags into the care of the doctor and nurses. As Finnick walks down the corridor towards the exit, the emotions that he was able to control while with Mags cannot be held any longer and tears well up in his eyes just as he's out the door. The tears feel hot, like fire burning his eyes, but the familiar feel of a chill follows the streaks on his face.

He doesn't understand how, what seemed to be, a really good day turned into a really bad one so fast. Annie had literally taken her first step onto the beach and yet, they can't enjoy even that small feat for 24 hours before something else comes up. And what's worse is that since he can't blame anyone for what has happened to Mags, he is still blaming himself despite what Mags thinks.

_How could I be so stupid, so careless?_ He thinks to himself. _To overlook Mags' sickness in favor of having a day at the beach? Wouldn't she take care of me if I was sick? How can I not do her the same favor?_

For 2 miles, he wallows in regret, mixed in with thoughts of living without Mags around. Mags, the one who took care of him like he was her own. Mentored him through his Hunger Games. Kept watch over him and his brother. Even chided him when he needed chiding. And now, taking in Annie also, as someone else who needed help being looked after. There were times that not even Finnick could figure out how to calm Annie, and apparently a woman's touch was the answer.

As Finnick walks back to the village, he wipes his eyes and face free of the tears he shed. Mags is alive and he needs to remember that. She wouldn't want him bawling over her for what she would probably consider a minor inconvenience. He shakes himself free of all the fear of the last few hours and takes a deep breath.

"Get over it," he tells himself sternly.

As he enters the village, he can see the lights of each house on and several people are standing around in the green, whereas some are standing in the doorways of their neighbors.

It's an odd sight. The victors do not necessarily gather together on the green like there's a social occasion nor speak so openly in the front of houses as they are doing now. However, Finnick suspects news of Mags' situation has been spread. How any of them found out, he's not quite sure. The only other one who was there when it happened was Annie. _Did she go around telling everyone,_ he wonders. He doesn't believe that to be like her, though. Granted, Annie barely talks freely to anyone aside from him and Mags and, of course, her father.

Then a thought occurs to him. _Maybe this isn't about Mags._ Turlach is there on the green as well, talking to a couple of the friendlier victors. When they catch sight of Finnick, Turlach jogs up to him.

"Finnick, where did you go? Where's Mags?" asks Turlach with concern.

"I took Mags to the medical building. She had a stroke," explains Finnick exhaustively.

"Is she okay? Was Annie with you? Is she still at the medical building, then?" asks Turlach anxiously.

"No," says Finnick. The news of Mags' stroke was definitely a surprise to those listening, but then a realization comes to Finnick's mind. If they're asking about Annie's location, it means that for some reason, Annie hasn't been seen since he left her hours ago. "Why? What's going on?"

"Annie-," says Turlach. Before Turlach can say anything else, Finnick rushes towards Annie's house. "Wait, Finnick. She's not there."

Finnick enters the house, as if he does not hear Turlach at all.

"Annie!" he calls out. "Mr. Cresta!"

Turlach enters the house after Finnick.

"Finnick, they're not here," says Turlach. Finnick still wants to check, still needs to make sure, so he immediately goes into Annie's room. He checks the closet, the bathroom, her father's room. He checks every space he can think of, even under her bed, not that he's ever seen her hide under there before. He calls out her name and listens for any movement or any sound of breathing, whimpering, or crying. But there is nothing.

When Finnick finally comes down the stairs, he looks to Turlach. "Where is she? Where's her dad?"

"Mr. Cresta is looking around town. He came by the house, but neither of you were there. Nobody's seen her since she was with you at the beach. I hoped she was with you-,"

Finnick shakes his head. "I told her to go home."

He goes over in his mind the last time he saw her. He remembers Annie's reaction clearer now than when it actually happened. The shock on her face is much more disturbing now in his memory. He takes in the full detail of her eyes, and it reminds him of another time she had that same wild and dark look in her eyes, but before Finnick can let the memory of Annie in the arena overwhelm him, Turlach grabs one of his arms.

"Finnick, let's go find her," says Turlach. With those words, Finnick is pulled back into the present. Annie is lost and he has to find her.

The first place they look is back at Mags' house. When they enter, Finnick again calls out Annie's name, but the only thing that greets them is silence. The sound of dripping liquid has long past, but the evidence is still there. The cup now lays on the floor, probably having been knocked off the sofa when he picked up Mags. The puddle of the liquid has saturated itself on the wooden floor as well as the cushion of the sofa.

Finnick flashes back to an image of Mags, unresponsive, slumped over, now that he's able to go over the details in his head without the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. He remembers how he had been so excited to share some good news with her, and he has to really confirm with himself that it really did happen only just that afternoon.

"Our house," says Finnick. Turlach tells Finnick that he has already looked there, too, but agrees to search again. And again, she's not there. As they leave the house, they see Mr. Cresta entering the village area from town, but he is not alone.

Behind him are three people in the familiar white uniforms that classify them as peacekeeper, all holding flashlights. One of them in particular brings a scowl on Finnick's face. Head peacekeeper Garcen's eyes are hard, but he also seems to barely hide a smirk on his face.

"So, we hear there seems to be a victor missing," says Garcen. The look on Garcen's face gives Finnick the notion that Garcen would love to find Annie himself, just to see what kind of punishment he can dish out on a victor. It would probably be a punishment that would prove to the rest of District 4 that even a victor can be disciplined if caught doing something illegal.

"She's not missing. She just didn't tell anyone where she was going," replies Turlach coolly as Finnick grinds his teeth.

"Isn't that a bit unusual for Annie to do? Go wandering about by herself and not tell anyone? Not even you, Finnick?" asks Garcen, all too menacingly.

Finnick glares are Garcen, and it's just the reaction that Garcen wants, because Garcen would be more than happy to have a reason to remake Finnick's face. Turlach just grabs Finnick's arm before Finnick can react. It's all Finnick can do to lunge towards Garcen. Turlach pulls even harder on his brother's arm, as if to remind him again that they still need to focus on looking for Annie, and the more attention they give to Garcen is less attention being spent to look for Annie. Finnick's muscles tense once more before relaxing slightly, and unclenching his fists.

"Don't bother wasting any of your peacekeepers' time on this search. We'll take care of Annie," says Finnick through a smile meant to show Garcen that he'll have to wait for another day to lay out a punishment on any of them.

"Fine, keep her to yourself then. But you know the rules. If we find her where she's not supposed to be-," says Garcen.

"You won't," interrupts Finnick. He doesn't need to hear the head peacekeeper's attempt at a threat.

Garcen and Finnick look at each other, which can be somewhat comical given the extreme contrast in physical appearance between the two – one is tall and amazingly beautiful and young, the other is short with a protruding belly and looking close to 50 years old even though he's actually in his mid thirties. Still, Garcen should not be underestimated, which is the one reason this standoff is not giving anyone a laugh.

It's not until Turlach starts pushing Finnick away that the two break off their stares.

"Come on, little brother, we don't have time for this," reminds Turlach.

As Finnick backs up, finally agreeing with Turlach, Garcen gives out a menacing chuckle. It takes all of Finnick's willpower and a reminder to himself that they still have to find Annie to prevent from turning back around and showing Garcen what he is truly capable of. Turlach is right, they don't have time to entertain Garcen, but Finnick knows this standoff with Garcen isn't over yet.

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><p><em>In an effort to make the chapters more manageable to read, each chapter from now on will be between 2k-3k words. Hope this works for all. <em>


	11. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**__**Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

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><p>Chapter 11: The Search<p>

Mr. Cresta follows behind them, but even in the dark of night, Finnick can see that Annie's father is both physically and emotionally exhausted now.

"Mr. Cresta, why don't you go back to the house and Turlach and I will continue looking. We'll find her," says Finnick. A memory from earlier today pops into Finnick's mind, when he told Annie the same thing, to go home. He tells himself those will not be the last words he says to Annie.

"No, I can't rest. She's my daughter. I'm sorry if I brought trouble by letting them peacekeepers know, but-," says Mr. Cresta.

"I know, sir. But we need someone to be at the house if she comes back," explains Turlach. The realization that Turlach may be right hits Mr. Cresta and after several anxious moments to think about it, he finally nods in assent.

"Okay," says Mr. Cresta with a sigh. He walks toward the house, his head down in resignation, his feet shuffling slower than normal from all the walking he had down in and around town. Finnick looks at the bedraggled man, and knows that Mr. Cresta will always feel somewhat useless in situations such as this. He wonders how Annie's father dealt with her time in the Games, if he had been watching with hopeful eyes, or if he had been waiting sorrowfully for when and how his daughter would die. Finnick can't imagine what it would feel like to see someone he loves go into the arena. He never felt that close to anyone that was reaped. He feared for his brother in early years, but he's thankful that he never had to experience it on the other side himself. To watch helplessly as someone you love kills or gets killed. To see them change or lose a part of themselves, to never be able to return to what their life was like before all that. Finnick's heart beats uncomfortably in his chest as a feeling of loneliness sweeps through him. It takes Turlach's tap on his arm to bring him back to what needs to be done now.

"Where to now?" asks Turlach. He knows he has to keep Finnick focused.

"Oh, um," says Finnick, trying to think of other places that Annie could have gone. Certainly, she would not have gone into town without any of them, so he immediately takes that out as a possibility. Then he retraces his footsteps from earlier today, before Mags' stroke, when it was just him and Annie. The beach was the first place they went to.

Finnick is already moving in the direction of the beach area behind Annie's house before he even says the words. But as soon as they get there he has a feeling that she's not there.

The beach looks completely different than earlier, when the sun was out and welcoming. Now it feels ominous and uninviting, even with the brightness of the moon out. All he can hear is the soft sound of the low tide in the distance, but even that doesn't sound the same. The waves sound muted, as if the waves don't have the energy to crash into the shoreline anymore. He calls out Annie's name again, but neither he nor Turlach can hear any response. Finnick is almost sure she would at least say something back or move or do something to show him where she is. Right now, he's desperate enough to want to hear her scream just so he can know she's around.

He turns his head back to where her house is and looks up at the empty balcony. _Where are you?_

He's now at a loss. They checked their homes and now the beach. Finnick can't think anymore, his mind is frantic with various images flashing incoherently through his mind, but they're all of Annie. Images of her face, her smile, her eyes, her hair, and none of it is helping him find her right now. He knows closing his eyes won't make them go away, so he tries to focus on the uneven shapes of the sand being lit by the moon.

"Annie," he whispers to himself. "Where are you?"

Turlach slows his stride as he meanders across the beach, moving steadily closer to the shore. Finnick's mind is back to earlier that day, sitting on the towel with Annie, looking out at the water. His fingers slowly draw circles in the cool sand. The evening is getting late and it's unusually cold now. And Annie is out there somewhere, shivering maybe, her skin forming goose bumps at the slightest breeze. It was cool earlier today, too, he remembers.

"Where are you?" he whispers again.

"What are you doing, Finnick?" asks Turlach. Turlach crouches down in front of Finnick while Finnick tries to remember when exactly he fell on his knees in the sand. Finnick looks at his brother, and for a brief moment, realizes that Turlach is not only there to help him find Annie, but also there to help him not lose control. Turlach may not even know, but that's what he's doing. "Okay, we've checked almost everywhere aside from town. Do you think she'd go there by herself?"

Finnick shakes his head. "No, I don't think so," he replies. Finnick knows that Annie wouldn't go to town by herself. Annie has no reason to, no one to visit in town and if she were to go, it would only be with other people, such as her dad, maybe even Mags or himself if either of them asked her to. But because of Annie's inability to control the onset of a daymare, she usually stays in the village. The last thing Annie needs is more eyes on her during one of her breakdowns.

Finnick wonders how Annie can manage it. It doesn't happen often, but her reaction when it does, well, it can scare anyone into having their own nightmare. He knows because it's happened to him. Every time he's around when it happens he knows he'll be dreaming something terrible that night. Luckily, it's not as bad as when he comes back from one of his trips to the Capitol, in which he has accustomed himself to going on the boat each day until he… finds himself. And that's when it hits him.

"I think I know where she is," he says as he quickly gets back on his feet, not bothering to shake the sand off. Turlach follows without a word.

It doesn't take long to get to the dock, but once there, they have to be careful not to make it known they're there. There are no peacekeepers out now. They had already scoured the waters at sundown. But he doesn't want to take any chances that there might be a boat riding about with a peacekeeper searching for anyone trying to go out a night, or go fishing – an illegal activity punishable by death.

Finnick tells Turlach to stay low on the deck to keep watch as he silently and swiftly jumps on the deck of the boat. Finnick's boat is in any way luxurious by Capitol standards, but it is definitely nicer than the other fishing boats in town, which makes it easily detectable when he goes out on it. He quickly scans the deck of the boat before heading into the cabin below. Finnick doesn't dare try to create any sort of lighting, which makes it all the more difficult since the cabin is enclosed and blocked from half of the moon's light.

"Annie?" he whispers. _Please be here. Please. _

That's when he sees it – two eyes reflecting just a hint of moonlight. Her face must've just turned to look at him. She's sitting on the floor, in a position similar to the one she took on the beach, with her legs folded up to her chest and her arms wrapped around her knees.

For the first time since they left the beach that day, Finnick is finally able to give a sigh of complete relief. And he slowly brings himself to crouch down in front of her. He can see more of her face now that his eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness. He smiles at her, but she can't bring herself to smile back at the moment.

"Finnick," her voice cracks, even though his name is softly spoken. "I'm sorry."

He can see that she has the look of guilt and sorrow on her face, but doesn't understand why. He doesn't even care at this point what it is, because it doesn't matter to him. What matters is that she's okay. For Finnick, even thinking about the alternative wasn't something he wanted to explore, so he tries to shake off her apology.

"Annie, don't be sorry. I'm just glad you're okay," says Finnick, gently stroking her arms that are still wrapped tightly around her knees. Her skin is cool to the touch and she shivers just slightly under his fingers. "But you can't stay here. We have to go home. If someone catches us here, we could get into trouble. You understand?"

Annie's eyes shift downwards, and it takes a few seconds before she says anything.

"I was scared to go home," says Annie. Finnick moves a strand of her hair away from her face, and she flinches a little. "I was scared of what I might see if… what if it's not just her… what if…"

A moment of clarity hits and panic flashes in her green eyes as they shoot up at him. "Mags! Dad! Are they okay?" says Annie out loud, much louder than Finnick would like. Annie is frantic as she starts getting up from the floor, but Finnick stops her before she runs out, trying to calm her before she takes another step.

"They're okay. Mags is okay. Your dad is fine. He's just worried. He went looking all over town for you, but he's okay. We told him to wait at the house in case you were to get home before we could find you," says Finnick, holding her by the arms.

Annie's looking around, nodding and muttering in a whisper, so he squeezes her arms to rein her mind back in. He bends down a bit so his face is level with Annie's face, and slowly releases the grip of his right hand to pull gently pull at her chin and face him. Her chilled soft skin warms at his touch. "Annie, they're okay. Can you hear me?" says Finnick. Annie blinks a couple of times before the confusion in her eyes clears and she's looking straight at Finnick.

"They're okay?" asks Annie. Finnick nods slowly, smiling. She breathes a sigh of relief. "Mags is okay. I thought maybe they were out to get us…" she pauses, as if thinking of who exactly 'they' are, but she just sighs sullenly. "I don't know what's wrong with me."

Finnick's action is immediate as he pulls Annie in for a hug, enveloping her in his embrace. A moment later, he feels her arms around his waist. Her body is definitely too cold, and it sends a chill down his back and goose bumps on his arms, but he doesn't loosen his hold on her. Finnick wants to hold her tighter, but Annie's body also feels so frail and small next to his own, he's almost afraid he'll break her. Still, his hold is strong enough to keep her still, and hopefully give her some warmth. He slowly places one of his hands on the back of her head, and gently strokes her hair; his fingers again feel the wonderful softness of her tresses. He can't recall ever noticing any other girl's hair before, not like this.

Finnick tries to gather in the thoughts of what this girl means to him, but he can't seem to form the words for it. All he knows at this moment is that she's the only one that, when he touches her, gives him a sensation that can only be described as a peaceful glow running through him from the tips of his fingers and spreading out to the rest of his body. To him, it's as if the sensitivity in his fingers become so intensely heightened that he can't remember the feeling of anything else so wonderful. She's the only one that makes his heart jump and ache at the same time. Yet, it's so comforting to him that, in each instance, he wonders if he can ever let Annie go without feeling some kind of emptiness.

Annie's mind is clear now. She knows beyond any doubt that, no matter what has happened in the past and what will happen in the future, Finnick will always try to be there for her. He will always try to find her. He will always try to protect her. And even though she knows it's not possible for him to always achieve this, he will no doubt try until he can no longer. With this realization, Annie allows herself to trust him will all that she has, as long as she can bear it. The warmth of his body, and the strength and tenderness of his grasp around her only assures her of what she has come to know. She doesn't pull back, either. Instead, she holds onto him tighter, resting her head firmly against his chest, feeling his heart beat and his body emanating heat to her, not wanting to let go.

Turlach's barely audible call from just outside the boat grabs Finnick's attention, and they are finally able to release themselves from each others' arms. They leave the dock with Turlach undetected, and once they get back to the village green, Turlach leaves Finnick to walk Annie back to her home.

"Turlach," says Annie before he gets too far. Turlach stops short, somewhat surprised at Annie's call. He turns around to meet her gaze. "Thank you."

It takes a second for the surprise to set in and acknowledgement to be the proper return. "You're welcome, Annie. I'm just glad you're safe." He smiles at her before he turns back around, still surprised, but content with her appreciation.

Finnick and Annie continue on, hands clasped together, trying to keep the connection between them going for as long as possible. They finally release each other, but Finnick still places his hand lightly on her back as they enter Annie's home. Only when her father greets Annie with his own hug are they completely separated from each other's touch.

She does not hesitate to reciprocate her father's embrace.

"Oh, Annie-," is all her father can say.

"You're okay, dad," says Annie reassuringly. Annie's dad can't help but laugh at her comment.

"I'm okay? You're the one who needs to be okay," he says to Annie. He pulls back to look at her face, to see her eyes, and touch her cheek. "I wouldn't know what to do without you, my dear. Please Annie – please try not to run off again."

Annie nods her head, her mind still clear. "I'll try, daddy. I'm sorry."

All three of them sit around the kitchen table, drinking tea that Annie's father had brewed while waiting for Annie, which was about as much as he was able to do in his worried state. He offers them food, but neither seems up to eating. Only the sound of sipping can be heard as the minutes pass.

Finnick glances at Annie every so often, looking for signs of her muddled, confused self to come back, but it doesn't.

After several more minutes, Finnick finally feels the events of the day overwhelm him physically and he has a hard time pretending not to look so tired, but Annie sees it before his eyes flicker away from her stare.

"You need sleep," says Annie. Both her father and Finnick look at her.

"Annie, you need sleep, too," says Finnick calmly. Annie's face is suddenly fraught with dread as she realizes what it means to sleep. Knowing that she could face something terrible in the realm of unconsciousness, she looks with wide eyes to Finnick. Her eyes are not muddled or confused, but they are set with fear. She shakes her head soberly.

"No. No, I don't want to. What if…" says Annie, clearly starting to panic again. Finnick doesn't know what to say. He knows she fears the nightmares that will probably invade her mind, especially after all that's happened today. He's just not sure what he can do about it.

Before, in the days immediately following his victory from the Hunger Games, bad dreams came nightly. He still had his parents around, as well as his brother. One of them would end up having to stay with him in his room, even Turlach. It felt a little unusual at first, being that they were already both in their teens, but nothing about Finnick's situation was normal anyway. And they wanted to help him through it, because he needed it, and they wanted him to need them.

But this is different. Finnick can't possibly ask to stay with Annie and pretend that it's no big deal to Annie's father. And even he's unsure of Mr. Cresta's ability to help calm her tonight if the nightmares are unbearable. Finnick is about to try to reassure Annie, even though he doesn't know what to say, when her father speaks out.

"Annie, let me," says her dad. This takes both Finnick and Annie aback. She looks at her father. Her father's eyes pierce through her with determination. He continues while he carefully puts his hand over her hand on the table. "Let me be your dad, Annie. Let me look after you, even if it's just for tonight. Please? I'll sleep on the sofa in your room if you want. Or I'll keep my door open and I'll come wake you if necessary. I know I haven't handled it well before, and that you haven't been able to trust me because of it, and I'm so sorry about that. But I want to try to earn your trust back. Can I? Will you let me?"

Annie cannot refuse. She reaches over to hug him, giving him the reassurance that tells him she will accept. "Okay, dad." She takes a deep breath and smiles as she feels her dad's arm squeeze her closer. There is still a hint of fear on her face, but she tries not to let it overwhelm her now.

With that settled Finnick excuses himself for the night. He's at the door, but Annie stops him to give him one final embrace. His fingers glide through her hair once again and he feels that peaceful glow again. This is his way now, a way of comforting and being comforted, in knowing she's really there. She's really okay.

Before he can stop himself, he slowly rolls his head just so and gently presses his lips against the top of her head, breathing in the subtle sweet scent of her hair and skin. It's such a quiet gesture that he's not even sure if she knows what he did. Although he didn't mean anything sensual or passionate by it, Finnick knows that somehow, the relationship between them has changed. Into what, he has yet to fully understand.

As exhausted as he is, Finnick knows he won't be able to sleep well tonight, so he makes it a point to get on his boat as soon as possible in the morning. He wants her to be able to see him out there as soon as she's up, to know he'll be there for her, a constant reminder of comfort, to let her know he will wait patiently for her to find herself.

As Finnick closes his eyes to try to sleep, he pushes back the realization that he will not be able to be there for her all the time.

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><p><em>Well, I thought I could put each chapter between 2000-3000 words, but alas, I'm a little over. Hope that's okay. <em>


	12. Chapter 12

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**__**Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

* * *

><p>Chapter 12: Bending the Boundaries<p>

"Halfway there," says Finnick.

Annie looks back. The stretch of sand from where she stands to where her house is doesn't seem so far for her now. She turns again to look forward, the low waves moving steadily back and forth on the shore. Finnick puts his hand out to her. She takes it without hesitation. As they move forward, she counts ten steps, and he stops.

"Okay?" he asks.

Her heart beats slightly faster. It's her turn now as she takes one big step forward, then another. Her heart beats stronger. Annie takes in a deep breath, stopping. She closes her eyes and a vision of a wave crashing towards her slowly plays out in her head, but she opens her eyes to push the vision away. Her hand squeezes his tightly, and he holds onto her. He doesn't say anything or do anything. He just waits. Seconds pass, and she releases her tight grip on his hand, but still holds it. She turns to look at him, and she smiles faintly.

"Okay," she says. He returns her smile.

They sit there on the sand each day, moving ever closer to the water. He takes his time with her, waiting patiently for her to say when to stop or when to move forward. The progress can be slow at times, depending on the tides or on how well she slept the night before, and even a couple of times depending on how soon he can recover after a trip to the Capitol.

For Annie, the past few weeks leading up to this moment were spent thrashing and screaming around in despairing dreams, most of which she would not be able to recall once her eyes flung open. It became routine.

There were days she would have to beg her father to have Finnick stay over. After a week of nonstop nightmares, sometimes two or three in one night, her father finally relented and asked Finnick to help him watch over Annie. He would have to sleep in the empty bedroom across the hall, but at least he would be there. It helped, him being there, in their house. He was more alert to her cries at night, swift to react and wake her, to comfort her back to sleep. That was the only way she could sleep through the night this whole month.

He would kneel at her bed, hold her hand, and whisper things about the beautiful creatures he saw in the ocean. Sometimes he would move strands of her hair out of her face. Sometimes he would stroke her cheek softly as he spoke. It was always about the sea creatures, how they looked, how they shimmered underneath the sun's rays that broke through the watery surface, how they easily glided their way around; but really, it was more the way he spoke than it was about the words that came out.

It didn't hurt that sometimes he was so close to her, when he spoke his breath would warm the skin on her face or her neck or her ear. So close. But not too close. No matter how badly she needed him to stay by her in the night, he was never too close, and she never tried to pull him closer. It seemed that they had an unspoken rule about the boundaries of their relationship, for reasons they wouldn't delve into.

As the time loomed closer to when Finnick would have to leave for the Capitol and the next Hunger Games, both her days and nights were fraught with more distress, more pain, more daymares, more nightmares. Finnick was by her most of the time.

Now it's their final morning together on the beach before the reaping. Finnick lies out on his side, staring out at the waves. Annie hasn't felt comfortable enough to do the same, but she sits with both legs to one side, her body angled towards Finnick and her left arm placed for support.

"You're so patient with me. Why is that?" she asks.

Finnick shrugs. "What's the rush? It's not like I've had much of anything else to do."

"You're not bored with me yet?"

"Nope."

"Why?"

He chuckles. "I don't find you boring, Annie."

"I do."

Finnick looks at her, but she's still staring out towards the water. He sits up, moving closer to her, and gently touches her arm. Annie feels a shiver move through her body, but tries hiding the sensation from him. She turns to him and is locked into his deep stare.

"Hey," he whispers, "you are not boring, Annie. You are so unique-"

"So crazy."

"No. No!" he says forcefully. Her reaction is slight, but he sees it. That's not what he wants. He doesn't want anything he says to scare her. "Sorry, I didn't mean to snap," he says softly. Annie moves her arm away from his touch.

She takes her normal position, folding her legs to her chest and wrapping her arms around her knees, and looks down at her feet.

Finnick doesn't want to leave it like this. He knows that doing so now would make things worse once he gets on the train. He sits up and takes a breath as if he's about to say something, but doesn't. He has to think about his next words yet again.

"Annie," he says cautiously. "You are not crazy, ok? I know 'crazy.' I've met 'crazy.'" Annie flickers a glance in his direction before she looks down at her feet again. Finnick gently runs his fingers through the ends of her hair, and moves his face closer to her, enough to where his breath warms her neck. "And you are _not_ like them. At all. Because if you're crazy, then that means I'm crazy, too. And I'm not crazy. We're not crazy. They are. The ones who don't know right from wrong. The ones who find enjoyment in other people's torment," he pauses and pulls his head back, searching her face for a reaction. She clenches her jaw, but nothing else that he can see. "We can't let them continue to torment us. Please tell me you understand, Annie. Tell me that you won't think of yourself like that. You're so much better than that," he says.

She slowly nods. "Not crazy," she says softly.

"Not crazy," he repeats.

He looks at her, pushing a lock of hair away from her face so he can see her eyes, waiting for her to return his gaze. When she finally does, she half-smiles at him, and that's enough to nudge her shoulder, to get her to smile more. He moves to sit closer to her, pulling his arm around her as she leans her head on his shoulder. Finnick used to think it would be too awkward or uncomfortable showing this kind of attention to Annie. And it was at first, especially when it didn't involve having to calm her from some nightmare or breakdown.

But now, it just seems right. To him, it feels true. He's not putting up some fake persona for those silly Capitol women. He just goes through the motions there, putting up a wall to hide behind so the Capitol won't hurt him more than they already have. Here, he doesn't have to do that. He can let down that wall. So he does, and more so with Annie than anyone else these days, including his own brother. He wonders why, but comes to the conclusion that it's because of how she makes him feel during these times they spend with each other.

His hand moves to her head, cradling it on his shoulder. He lays his cheek down on it and takes in both the subtle sweet fragrance and soft silkiness of her hair. He can't think of anything else smelling so good or feeling so soft, and he has to smile at himself being able to experience this sensation.

He knows he can't let this sensation get to him. He knows he has to keep himself in control of his own emotions, but he also knows that being with Annie has been a welcoming comfort. He's so sure of who he is when he's with her and he relishes in the time they spend together. He knows he's pushing those boundaries he put on himself each time he's around her, but can't let it break. He has Snow to remind him of that, too. Every time he gets a call, or with every Hunger Games event, when he has to go to the Capitol, that's his reminder that he can't get too close to Annie. It could destroy them both.

They only have another hour.

"I don't have to go?" asks Annie after several minutes of peace.

After last year's Games, no one would be requesting her presence at the Capitol. Situations like this are usually not spoken of in polite circles at the Capitol. Only other victors would dare mention anything about it, because they understand.

"Nope. You get to stay here, and not worry about any of that," says Finnick.

"And what do you get to do?" asks Annie. Finnick is quiet for a while, and only when she lifts her head up to look at him does he give an answer.

"I get to wish I was here… in District 4," says Finnick. Annie knows that's as far as he'll go to talking about what he'll be doing at the Capitol, even though it wasn't a real answer. But she understands it's best that way.

Considering the previous times it's taken for Finnick to get himself together again after coming back from one of his solo trips, she has a distinct feeling that it will be some time before he feels comfortable with her again after his return from this upcoming one, and likewise with her. _Two weeks, no, twice that, maybe more_, she thinks. This will be the last time she spends a day at the beach for a while, then. The last time she gets just the right amount of push, or maybe pull, she needs to take the few extra steps each day that brings her closer to the water. She wonders if maybe, knowing that, if she should just find the strength while Finnick is still here with her, to push herself all the way to that shoreline.

She's already standing before she consciously agrees to it.

"Annie?" asks Finnick curiously.

"Halfway there," she says now. _Only halfway more to go_, she says to herself. Finnick is standing beside her now, wondering if he should do something to stop her, or wait and see. He chooses the latter.

Annie takes a tentative step forward. Nothing. Another step. Still nothing. The only thoughts in her head now are the steps that she's counting as she moves forward. Slowly, she moves one foot in front of the other. She takes notice of the sand between her toes, the smell of the ocean air.

Memories of Finnick's words from what seems like decades ago repeat in her head. _"The soft sand and smell of the sea and the breeze gently blowing on your face, through your hair. The sun on the horizon as it sets. Picture it in your head. Have you got it?"_

"I got it," whispers Annie. She closes her eyes, taking in the sensation of the beach around her, keeping the bad memories of pain and death from invading her mind. Finnick doesn't say anything nor does he hold onto her, but she senses him there, walking with her, alongside her. That's all she needs to go on as step after step she goes.

The sound of the water is very close to her now.

The texture of the sand changes with each step.

Then she feels it, at first just the dampness of the sand.

Then the water laps at her feet.

Annie opens her eyes, and stares downward. The water is cool. She exhales, not realizing that she had held it for the last few moments. Then inhales. As each tide rolls in, she feels a renewing. A renewing of her body, her mind, her soul. She feels a renewing of strength that she thought was long gone, taken away from her during the Games. The water has given back to her what she feared it had taken away.

She finally acknowledges the person standing next to her, who has been there the whole time. Finnick gives out a huff, half surprise, half elation. The realization that she was able to walk the rest of the way to the water basically on her own gives her a sense of pride that she cannot contain and jumps up to wrap her arms around Finnick's neck. He catches her with ease and then laugh in elation in each other's embrace.

"That was amazing!" exclaims Finnick as they release each other. He cups her face in his hands. "I knew you could do it."

Annie can only smile back, because she didn't know if she could. "With your help."

"Not this part. That was all you. You didn't need me," says Finnick.

Annie smiles again at him, speechless. She could argue with him about that, but she doesn't want to stop feeling the joy that she has at the moment.

It's sudden, but it happens unexpectedly. For both of them. His hands are still cupping her face when he presses his lips against her forehead. It was supposed to be a show of pride from one friend to another, but somehow, they know it's not. They know it's more than that, and as he pulls his head back, he looks straight at her, heat rising in his face. He's flush with embarrassment, yet he doesn't want to move, afraid that she'll do something, or say something, or not say anything at all, to express her disapproval. If he could knee himself in the gut, he would.

The moment seems like forever, his heart is pounding rather loudly in his chest, and he wonders if she can feel it through the tips of his fingers, which are still cupping her face. He sees a flicker in her eyes and for a brief moment is frozen with fear that she will run away from him, from his still cupped hands. The flicker is gone and is replaced with a different kind of light in her eyes. The corners of her mouth curl slightly upward, and he quickly realizes that she is smiling at him. She is returning his gratitude.

They hug again, this time slowly, more attentively, taking in each other's warmth.

They spend the rest of the final hour sloshing their feet in the water, kicking a little bit of it at each other playfully. Annie looks down constantly at her feet, seeing the water and sand around them. Not once does a moment of terror enter her thoughts. Not once does she think about the tragedy of the tidal wave from her Games. For once, the past doesn't invade her mind. All she can think about is the moment of joy she's feeling being there on the beach with Finnick. Finnick Odair, whom she once thought of as a conceited fool, has come from being her mentor to her best friend. Her mind has never been clearer.

Before long, it's time for them to go. The joy of the moment is short lived, but unforgettable.

The reaping for the 73rd Hunger Games will start soon, and Finnick will be on his way back to the Capitol. Annie will stay in District 4 with Mags and her dad and even Turlach to keep her company.

"Keep an eye out for them, will you?" asks Finnick, after returning from the beach to pack. Turlach looks at him with a smile that's somewhat reminiscent of Finnick's.

"You know I will," assures Turlach.

"What? You don't want to pester me about staying anymore?"

Turlach pauses for a while before answering. "I don't think there's anything I could say that would stop you from going. Is there?"

Finnick tightens his lips. He doesn't know why Turlach has finally relented, but he doesn't ask for a reason. "No, there isn't."

Turlach doesn't need to give him a reason. What Turlach does know is that despite the fact that Annie is staying, Finnick isn't. He realized then that Finnick's reason for going is far greater than Annie. It has always been. When he figured that out, he knew that Finnick was involved in something that maybe Finnick himself couldn't get out of. So, whatever the reason is, Turlach needs to accept it.

Turlach also knows that he'll be relied upon to keep watch over those Finnick cares for the most. And he will do what he can for all of them. For Mags and Annie. And himself.

The names have been drawn and Finnick is ready to go with the rest of the victors.

Annie stands in front of him. The distance between them seems so much farther to her than it really is. An ocean away, really. So different from their time on the beach only earlier that day.

"Annie," says Finnick. He says her name again, pushing back some of her hair from her face. The sadness in her eyes mimics the sadness he feels inside. He needs to hide it away. He can't let it get to him. He'll be on the train and he'll need to find a way to push it from his mind. Push her from his mind. But not yet. He pulls her chin up so she can look him in the eyes. So she can focus.

"Don't forget," says Annie. "The soft sand and the smell of the sea. Remember that."

A couple of weeks ago, both Annie's father and Mags and even Turlach started wondering if it was such a good idea for Annie to constantly rely on Finnick's companionship. Finnick didn't argue with them about their concerns, but he didn't stop paying Annie daily visits either.

Still, Finnick would go out each morning on his boat, to keep his promise to himself to be there for her as a beacon of hope of sorts. He had to admit, he liked being part of her hope.

But now, as he's embracing her, he wonders if he should've heeded those worry-warts and their concerns about having spent so much time with Annie. Tomorrow, he won't be on the boat to greet her across the beach in the morning. He won't be able to sleep across the hall from her, waiting for her trauma-plagued body to scream out in terror. He won't be there to hold her hand in the middle of the night and whisper comforting words to her. He won't be able to feel her. The image of her smiling face in his hands flashes through his mind and he quickly pushes it away.

Finnick nods at Annie, but he doesn't say anything. He won't. He's afraid of what will come out. How it will sound. Instead, Finnick pulls her to him for one more embrace. He wants to feel her hair in his hands, on his cheek. He breathes in the scent of her hair as well. The smell of a subtly sweet fragrance combined with something that's entirely Annie. This is what he'll take with him on the train, to comfort him. It's all he can take with him of her.

Annie consumes herself in the warmth emanating from his body. It won't be enough, no matter how long they stand there. For with such affection from her best friend, the emptiness will come soon after. And this time, it will be weeks before she will be able to feel his touch again. She dreads the days to come, but she cannot stop it. In that final moment, the seconds before they release each other, she imagines herself pulling strength from Finnick, and letting it seep within her. Shape her. Empower her.

Then they separate.

She smiles at him, a comforting gesture. He smiles back, but only partly. She can see it in his eyes, the darkness brewing. Already, he's preparing himself for the Capitol, building a wall within himself to shield his true self from those that he doesn't want to see it. She understands him and knows that's what he needs to do, but she can feel a slight sting in her heart anyway.

"Finnick," she says. His eyes flicker towards her. She doesn't remember what her next words were supposed to be, or whether she even had anything else to say. She wants to say more, do more, but can't fathom a reason as to what or why. Suddenly, her thoughts become foggy and she reaches up to touch Finnick's cheek fleetingly. For a split second, Finnick flinches at her touch as if she had just sent a shock through him, but he composes himself immediately, trying not to let anyone, including Annie, notice.

Mags steps up next to Annie, holding her cane in one hand, and gives Finnick a brief smile as well before she pulls Annie back with her other hand to start their trek back to the Victor's Village. Finnick gives one final nod to her, and Annie slowly turns around to head back, not looking back even once. She's sure she doesn't want to see the look in his eyes as he gets on the train, whatever it is. "Come back soon," she whispers. Mags squeezes Annie's arm a bit.

Finnick gets on the train, his mind trying hard to concentrate at the task that lay ahead of him. It's harder than ever for him to do so, and he doesn't question why that is, because he knows. He just can't admit it to himself. Not now. Not ever.

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><p><em>I guess my word limit of 3000 isn't quite working. Hope you like this anyway. <em>


	13. Chapter 13

**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. Big thanks to Danalos the Lady Chaos for beta-reading.**

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th**__**Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

* * *

><p>Chapter 13: Conversations Between the Districts<p>

"Let the 73rd Hunger Games begin!"

Claudius Templesmith's voice echoed through the Capitol, from a multitude of places in and around the Games Headquarters. The Games starts, but for the first minute, everyone waits. Finnick tightens his jaw at the scene. The countdown begins. Thirty seconds. People are whispering, giddy with excitement. Twenty seconds. They jostle around to get a clearer view of the screen; nobody wants to miss the beginning of the games, especially the kills around the Cornucopia. _Crazy, all of them._ Ten seconds. Everyone is silent, even holding their breath. Zero. Finnick can just make out the two District 4 tributes. They battle their way to the Cornucopia.

It doesn't take long for the color of crimson to stain the area in and around the cornucopia. Finnick takes note of the sponsors around him. The ones near the District 3 mentor are groaning, as are the ones in 5, 6, 8, and 9. Finnick can hear the Games' commentators on the television as well, remarking about if Haymitch will start reevaluating his strategy. Finnick shakes his head, because he knows Haymitch doesn't have a strategy. Never has. At least not since Finnick has known him.

He looks over at each district station briefly and gives nods to some of the victors that he's familiar with, some friendlier than others. He casually glances at a couple of the victors from District 2, but only terse nods are exchanged there.

At the District 7 station, he catches sight of last year's victor, Johanna Mason. She's one of the mentors for her district. She watches her screen intensely but does nothing, just takes in the events while her eyes glower with an angry, and somewhat pained expression. Usually, there's nothing to be done for the mentor at this point. The Games have just started. It's later on when she'll be working her strategy. Suddenly, he imagines Annie at the front of her screen, pushing all the buttons as Haymitch had told him she did. Before he lets the images take over, he shifts his eyes around again, taking note of all the victors and mentors around.

He makes his way to the District 4 station to see how the tributes are doing and they seem to be handling themselves fairly well at the moment. He's not a mentor, but that doesn't mean he isn't concerned about their survival. Unfortunately, he has to remind himself that only one of them can stand as victor in the end, and there's a big chance it won't be from 4. Being a career only usually satisfies their longevity in the games.

The tributes are unquestionably brutal this year, although there's no point in them being anything else anyway. Sponsors will donate more easily to the more brutal tributes than the ones who have little or no backbone in them. Beauty goes a long way as well, but the District 4 tributes this year are only slightly above average in the Capitol's idea of beauty. So, the tributes' attitude will have to be their strong point.

He moves over to another familiar station. The two empty glasses that occupy the station desk and the lack of sponsors as compared to the other stations screams District 12. Haymitch is looking at the screen, but he's hardly paying attention. With drink in hand, Finnick wonders if he can even see through the alcohol fog in Haymitch's thoughts.

"Don't worry, kid. If they make it past this point, I'll sober up enough," says Haymitch. Finnick nods.

"Did you even tell them what they could do?" asks Finnick.

"Sure I did," says Haymitch lazily. "Told them to run." Finnick has half a mind to lecture him on his advice tactics, but he can't be bothered with having one of the few friends he has outside of his district be mad at him. After all, he doesn't know how long these Games will take and he'll need someone to talk to in between assignments.

Finnick decides to just make one comment about it. "You could've at least told them which direction to run."

Haymitch looks at the screen with Finnick and sees that both District 12 tributes ran straight into the cornucopia, and are now being quickly assaulted by the other tributes. And they are losing.

Haymitch shifts his eyes down at his drink. "Guess I forgot that part," he says quietly.

Finnick knows those tributes are not going to survive long enough for Haymitch to give up his drink.

"At least they got to live in the lap of luxury the last few days of their life," says Haymitch. Finnick can't hold his disapproval.

"What is that supposed to mean? Are you actually trying to justify your lack of mentorship as a mercy killing?" asks Finnick angrily.

"Why don't you say it loud enough for everyone to hear," says Haymitch, trying not to draw the attention of others in the room, although some have turned their heads in Finnick's direction, albeit briefly, before turning back to the action on the screens.

Finnick shakes his head, but he knows he has to control his volume. Even though he's upset, he certainly doesn't want to draw the attention of any of the officials or Capitol people. Finnick moves closer to Haymitch, but doesn't look at him.

"How can you just stand by and watch them get beaten? Get tortured? Get sliced up or stabbed? And not do anything about it?" he whispers irritably.

"You make it sound like it's my fault that those kids are in there," says Haymitch. "And it's not like they haven't been watching the Games on TV beforehand. It's not like they didn't know how to play. My mentor wasn't all that great, either, and I made it. Why is this a shock to you?"

Finnick is dumbfounded at Haymitch's nonchalance about the whole thing. But he couldn't have expected anything better from him this year. He isn't sure why he is getting so angry at him all of a sudden.

"Maybe they do know how to play, but they still deserve the best effort from their mentors," says Finnick, more calmly now. "What else do they have but us?"

Haymitch looks at his glass again and gulps down the rest of his drink. "Maybe you're right. Because who wouldn't want to live our lives, right?"

Finnick can sense the sarcasm in his tone, but shrugs it off. He doesn't want to stay there any longer. Everything about the start of the Games and conversation with Haymitch has rubbed him the wrong way and he decides that maybe it's best he leave to prepare for his next assignment.

"I have to go," says Finnick bluntly to Haymitch before he leaves.

Once he's out of the headquarters, he takes a deep breath and tries to stop thinking about what Haymitch said, but that's all he can think about. _What did he mean by that? What was he getting at, acting as if it'd better that these tributes die? That kind of thinking doesn't help anyone._ Finnick tells himself that their lives are not so bad. They still have a home, a great home. They have enough food and obviously enough money to support not only themselves but their family. But something about that kind of thinking doesn't sit well with him, either. Still, he doesn't want to accept that Haymitch's drunken idealism is any better.

Another week passes before he even has any spare time to spend with Haymitch, who's either still at the headquarters, or at the bar of the hotel he's staying at. As Finnick predicted, the District 12 tributes were one of the final ones killed at the Cornucopia, so it gave Haymitch all the freedom to continue with his drinking marathon. When he sees him at the bar, he's not alone. Haymitch's old friend from District 11, Chaff, is with him, as well as a young lady he knows but has yet to meet.

"Aren't you a little young to be drinking?" asks Finnick as he props himself on the stool next to Johanna Mason, facing her. Haymitch, sitting opposite of her, barely acknowledges Finnick, glancing only briefly at him with half-opened eyes.

Johanna eyes him up and down, similar to the way the Capitol women eye him. "Aren't you a little too hot to be wearing so many clothes?" asks Johanna. Finnick has to shake his head as he chuckles at her play on words.

"Hey, look who it is!" shouts Haymitch boisterously, as if he just realized Finnick had arrived, which was probably true given Haymitch's drunken drawl. "Wasn't sure if I'd see you again this trip, so I invited this fine lady to join us."

"And here I was, hoping that I would see you again," croaks Johanna as she smiles with that mischievous look she had after her Victory Tour speech in District 4. "You are awfully tempting, you do know that, right?" asks Johanna.

"My dear Johanna Mason," he says as he moves his face close to hers, then whispers, "as lovely as you are, I think I'd be too scared to be alone in a room with you." That certainly wasn't true, but he's not yet sure he can be honest with her. "Besides, if you had me, that would just ruin it for anyone else who would try to woo your heart."

Johanna laughs. "Oh, so now we're only on a full name basis, are we, Finnick Odair? Thought we were already friends," says Johanna.

"Friends. Sure. But is that the kind of thing you say to all your friends?" asks Finnick, referring to the wardrobe comment.

"Well, if they looked anything like you, oh most definitely," she says jokingly, with a hint of truth to it.

"So, why are you here? What happened to your tribute?" asks Finnick in an attempt to change the subject, even though he already knows that Johanna's tribute was killed a couple of days ago. It works, because Johanna's face turns into a controlled scowl at the thought of his question.

"The kid picked a fight with the girl from 1," answers Chaff.

"I told her to stay away from them. She didn't have the stealth or the strength to do it, but she had the stupidity," says Johanna through gritted teeth. She downs what's left in her glass.

Finnick doesn't say anything. He's too tired to discuss more about the Games and anything related to it. He always goes through some kind of weariness halfway through them, and yet, he still has to perform his duties to the best of his abilities. So, when it comes to dealing directly with other victors, he's grateful for the reprieve of having to act as if he likes them. As long as he really does like them, then he doesn't have to pretend. Luckily for Haymitch, Chaff, and even Johanna, he doesn't hate them. Even if Johanna is coming on to him, at least she's not Capitol. Plus, as Annie stated, Johanna doesn't like the Capitol.

_Annie understands people_, thinks Finnick. _Probably more than I do._ Finnick's thoughts bring him back to the last time he was with her at the beach. How clear-minded she was back then. So clear-minded. She even smiled and laughed, and they were playing on the water.

"What're you grinning at?" asks Johanna, interrupting his memories.

"I hadn't realized I was."

"From ear to ear. Must've been a nice thought. Can't have been about your last… date," suggests Johanna, letting on that she knows more than she's supposed to. Finnick glances over at Haymitch, but Haymitch is either too drunk or acting too drunk to overhear that statement.

"Wouldn't you like to know," he remarks.

"To be honest, from you, probably not," says Johanna. "Besides, I know how busy you are."

"Right. You're lucky to even be able to spend this much time with me," jokes Finnick.

"So, Odair. Where's your friend? Did she not come join you here?" asks Johanna.

"Who?"

"Annie, is it? The other victor from your district. The one who was with you when I came by on my tour," she says sluggishly. She's obviously had more than a couple of drinks in her now.

"No, she didn't," he says, trying not to think about what happened last year.

"She had trouble adjusting to the mentorship role last year, let's just leave it at that," says Haymitch. _Has he been listening this whole time?_

Johanna is brought another drink and takes a sip, digesting the information that Haymitch just stated, with an understanding that she doesn't continue further with this line of questioning.

Finnick looks at Haymitch. He senses that this is Haymitch's way of apologizing for the outcome of their conversation last they spoke. Haymitch's eyes flicker to him just briefly, but enough to let him know that's exactly what he meant it to be.

Finnick spends another hour with them, first talking about nothing of consequence, but eventually going over the state of things in each district. None of it is really too good. Since Johanna was last year's victor, her district was doing okay this past year due to the monthly parcels they were receiving, but now things will go back to what they were before since both tributes were killed from 7.

Chaff's and Haymitch's districts have always had it the hardest, and nothing has really changed. Chaff doesn't outright talk about the beatings that happen so often in District 11, but each of them know about it now. The words "trouble" or "problem" translate into some kind of physical punishment.

Haymitch doesn't like to talk about his district, but he doesn't really have to. Since they've all visited District 12 during their tours, it's not too hard to guess what kind of suffering people in 12 deal with since so many of them are so skinny. It's amazing that they can stand at all.

When they're gathered in the Capitol, they learn to translate the meaning behind certain words or phrases when it calls for it. But when they're separated and in their own districts, they have others ways of communicating when necessary, but never by phone. They aren't really supposed to know any phone numbers beyond their district. Usually, it's by written messages, transferred through several hands and trains. They don't get the messages as quickly because of that, but they do get them eventually.

The conversation dies down into somberness as they are left with nothing else to talk about except what they really want to talk about, so they decide to call it a night. Chaff takes the unlucky job of bringing Haymitch back to the Training Center.

Finnick starts getting ready to leave when Johanna stops him.

"Why do you do it?" asks Johanna. Finnick looks at her, slightly confused. She doesn't look back at him, only stares at her almost empty glass. "You work for him, don't you? Do his bidding?"

Finnick looks around to see if anyone else is listening, and even though there's no one around aside from the bartender who is well enough away to overhear anything, he tenses up.

"Look, whatever you've heard, it's not something that I care to discuss. Especially here," he says calmly and quietly.

"Would you rather I think of you as a disgusting sex-starved pig?" she retorts.

"Doesn't matter. Think whatever you want to. I do what is best for me. For everyone," he says.

"Really? So you still have something of worth? Or someone?" asks Johanna. Finnick is silent now. "I guess it's good that I don't have anything worth sacrificing myself for."

There is a long silence before anything else is said.

"Nothing at all? No friends?" asks Finnick. He knows that she's an orphan, but is bothered by the idea of Johanna being completely alone, even if he barely knows her.

"Nope," says Johanna.

Finnick doesn't know what exactly to say about that. To have no one to care about or love. To have to live your life without a connection. For Finnick, that's the worst sort of torment. It's true that he's had to make sacrifices of himself for those that he cares about, but he would do it without a moment's hesitation for those that mean something to him. That's why he does what he does. He still has Turlach to think about. And Mags. And Annie. If he didn't have them, he honestly doesn't know what he would do, and he really doesn't want to think about it. An image of Annie pops into his mind, but he quickly dismisses it. He can't think about anyone from 4 right now, not while he's here, and especially not her.

"Don't look at me like that," says Johanna. "I wasn't asking for your sympathy. I was just letting you know that I get it. I don't think that you made the best decision, but I get it."

"Okay, so you think you would've done something different?" he asks as he readjusts the look on his face to something that doesn't look quite as pathetic.

"Maybe, maybe not, but we'll never know," says Johanna.

"I guess not. But just so you know, I don't think your situation is any better than mine," he says with finality.

"I'll keep that in mind," says Johanna. She puts down her empty glass. "Well, this was fun. Maybe we can do it again next year." She gets up off her chair.

"Sure," says Finnick.

"Oh, and Finnick," says Johanna as she's walking towards the exit, "Try not to add me to your list of people you care about. I would hate to be another reason for you to keep doing what you do."

"I don't think you have anything to worry about there, sweetheart," says Finnick.

Johanna laughs. "Oh, of course not." She leaves, with Finnick wondering if she meant to sound sarcastic.

He has a feeling that Johanna understands all too well who Finnick is, and wonders if he has Haymitch to blame for that. He speculates that notion for two seconds before coming to the conclusion that Haymitch doesn't blab about other people's history, even if he is completely drunk. _Johanna may not have the sweetest disposition, but she definitely has brains_, he thinks.

Finnick doesn't actually mean for it to happen, but Johanna Mason is already on his list.

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><p><em>I will apologize in advance if I don't get the next chapter up same time next week.<em>


	14. Chapter 14

_**This story takes place after the completion of the 70th Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)**_

_**In this chapter, the 73rd Hunger Games have now passed. Finnick returns home after about 6 weeks being at the Capitol.**_

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><p>Chapter 14: Apologies<p>

Finnick didn't count the days. He didn't want to this time. It would only make the days feel slower than they were and it would make him think about her. It's not that he didn't want to think about her, but doing so meant that he was pulling down the invisible barrier that kept his true persona away from that place. Away from the Capitol.

As he steps off the train, he can immediately feel and smell the ocean breeze. He missed it, the tranquility of being out on his boat, the peacefulness calming his mind and resting his body. There is something to be said about being separated from the unnatural sounds that are a constant in the house and the town. But Finnick's trips to the Capitol have given him an even greater appreciation for the stillness of the sea that surrounds his home. That is part of the reason it is the first place he longs to go immediately after his returns to District 4.

Only now, things seem oddly different than previous returns after the Games. He's not exactly sure what to make of it. He knows he's glad to be back, but he feels a separation that he hasn't felt before. And stepping off the train hasn't quelled that feeling. He hoped it would.

For the past few years now since meeting Annie, he has had this unsettling feeling in his gut. It has been made worse by his unscheduled visits to the Capitol, but at least those were only for one night. This trip to the Capitol was during the Games, and it kept him away for weeks.

_How long will it take this time?_ He wonders. He does want to see Annie, but he's unsure of himself. It always takes time, several days, for him to return to his usual self after playing his part during the Games. This time is no different. In fact, it will probably be worse. He had 6 assignments. It was brutal for Snow to subject Finnick to having to be with those women, those strangers. He loathes Snow more each time for doing that to him. For manipulating him for his own purpose. To Snow, Finnick was just another object used to keep power over all of Panem, and Snow had many of them. He may as well have been an avox under Snow's direction, only moving when called for.

Now he is back home and he should feel relief about it. Finnick takes a deep breath and grabs his luggage to make the trek back to the Victor's Village.

He tries to think of what he'll do when he gets back there. When he sees them. His brother. Mags. Annie. Especially Annie.

The first thing he wants to do is take another shower. He took one before he left the Capitol, but somehow it didn't seem to help get rid of the unclean feeling he has had ever since he left there. He knows that a shower probably won't help that feeling go away anytime soon, but it's a start.

It's early evening, but the sun won't be going down for a few more hours. Once he gets to the village, he doesn't see anything out of the ordinary, but for some reason, he senses that something seems off. He shakes off the feeling and is about to pass by Annie's house as he goes to his own. He wants to see her, look into her eyes and find the warmth in them. He wants to see the smile that makes his heart beat just a bit faster. He wants to wrap his arms around her and feel her dark silken hair run through his fingers and be comforted in her embrace, like he was on the day he left. He wants, he wants, he wants.

A lump in his throat gives him reason to pause at the idea of doing that now. He decides that even though he would love nothing more than to drop his bags and go in her house to do what he wants to do, he needs to go home first. He needs to settle himself. Clear his mind. There's still so much of the memories of his time at the Capitol in there that he needs to refocus on who he is first. He needs to find himself.

As he glances at Annie's house, he notices the curtain draws open just slightly, and before he can react, before he can pass completely, the door of Annie's house opens.

"Finnick."

"Turlach? What are you doing there?" Turlach's face looks solemn and weary. He steps out and closes the door behind him, and approaches Finnick with all seriousness.

"What's going on?" asks Finnick, not sure how to take in this scene of Turlach at Annie's house. Turlach has never been inside there before. It's not that he isn't a friend, but there was never a reason for him to go there. It shouldn't be a surprise to Finnick, though, considering he did ask his brother to watch over her and Mags while he was away.

Did Annie run off again? Is she sick? Or worse yet, is she… he can't even form the word in his mind. He wouldn't know how to react to that if Annie was gone from his life. He doesn't even have the wherewithal to process what exactly that means to him, or what she means to him. What he does know is that something is wrong and he can't seem to move a muscle.

"Let me just tell you first of all that Annie is okay," Turlach shifts his eyes, as if he's not sure that was the right thing to say, but he continues. Finnick takes a breath; there's something else that Turlach needs to tell him.

"Okay, so what's wrong?"

"Mags is in there with her. We were waiting for you to come back as soon as it happened. Hoping for it, to be honest. We're not sure… what… well, if you can reach her… I mean-"

_Reach her?_ _What does that mean_, thinks Finnick.

"Why? What happened?" asks Finnick, his right hand clenching his luggage bag even tighter.

Turlach pauses, then he looks straight at Finnick. "Finnick, Annie's father is dead."

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><p>Finnick's legs moves first before his mind even fully comprehends what Turlach just said.<p>

He runs into the house, and is met with Mags standing just inside the doorway, shushing him and pointing to the sofa in the living room. Annie is asleep. He swiftly and silently makes his way to the sofa and kneels down next to her. She's laying on her side with her face to him. Annie's hair is wild again, tangled and dirty and covering her eyes. He carefully moves it away from her face, placing it behind her head. A dark bruise covers her left cheek and a cut mars her bottom lip. His heart pounds in his chest as a heat rises in him and reaches the backs of his eyes, blurring his vision.

"We had to give her some sleep syrup," says Turlach quietly.

Finnick's eyes are concentrated on her face, which carries a frown, with a wrinkle in the area just between her eyes. Even with medication, she's struggling in her dreams. He puts his hand on the side of her face, softly caressing the area of her bruise with his thumb, wishing that somehow he could make it disappear with his touch. He tries to whisper her name, but nothing comes out.

"What happened?" croaks Finnick after a few attempts at speaking. "Why is she hurt?"

No one says anything, and after a few seconds, Finnick finally gets up to turn and face Turlach and Mags. His face looks hard and menacing, like that of a Career tribute about to make a kill in the arena. He hardly ever has a reason to show this side of him in District 4.

"We don't know," says Turlach. Finnick's face changes to a look of despair.

Mags mumbles something and motions for them to sit down at the kitchen table. It's only a few meters away from where Annie lays in the living room, but Finnick is reluctant to step away. Only when Mags jabs him with her cane does he move, but the scowl on his face shows his disapproval towards Mags. If she is scared about his reaction, she doesn't show it.

Still, he goes to the kitchen and sits down, his face and chair turned halfway so he can see Annie from his left side and Mags from his right. Turlach sits across the table from him and starts explaining for Mags.

Apparently Mags was the one who found her first, a week before Finnick's return. She stepped into the house when she found the front door ajar that morning. Nothing seemed amiss, so Mags whistled for Annie to come down, but there was no immediate response. Only the faint sound of a muffled cry alerted Mags to a possible problem.

Mags had described as best as she could, without so many words, the mess she found in Annie's room. Annie was crouched tightly in the farthest corner of the room from the door. Her father's body laid on his side, with his blood seeped on the carpet and a long knife with one serrated side lying only a few inches from where Annie was crouched.

Annie had been covered in blood, mostly on her hands. She had gashes on her hands and arms, but most of the blood seemed to be from her father's fatal wound. Obviously a struggle had taken place, but Mags couldn't make out why it happened. She was hesitant to conclude anything beyond that.

Finnick could only shake his head. "It wasn't between them. It couldn't have been," says Finnick.

"There's no way of knowing, Finnick. She hasn't necessarily been making sense, and the peacekeepers that came don't see any other-"

"It wasn't between them," repeats Finnick through gritted teeth. "You didn't know her dad. He would have never hurt her."

No one speaks for a while, and Finnick knows they're waiting for him to calm down a bit before saying anything else. He just closes his eyes and leans his head against his right hand, trying to do exactly that. He takes a deep breath before he says anything else.

"Sorry," says Finnick. Mags places her hand on his arm and gives him a sympathetic look. Finnick motions to get up again.

"Patience," mumbles Mags quietly, squeezing his arm. Finnick looks at Mags, and then leans back against the chair again.

"What happened after?"

"They took his body, and made a report, but they haven't come back since. We've just been trying to keep Annie from…" Turlach pauses.

"From?"

"Hurting herself."

The pain in Finnick's chest grows stronger, as if he had just taken a blow right to his heart, and the scowl on his face turns into sorrow.

"So you give her the sleep syrup," says Finnick.

"It's the only way to get her to sleep. She hasn't been sleeping well at all. She only gets about thirty minutes worth now and then if we don't get the syrup in her. Plus, she barely eats anything."

"Don't give it to her anymore," says Finnick. He senses that Turlach is about to say something to change his mind, but he won't let him. "It'll make things worse. It'll make her not want to feel anything anymore."

Finnick knows this is true. It's easy to get addicted to sleep syrup, just as easy as getting addicted to morphling. Some people take it for the same reason, to stop hurting, either physically or emotionally. But as much pain as Annie is in, he knows she has to get through it without the syrup. She has to or she will never be the same – she will never be the Annie that he's familiar with. The cautious Annie. The perceptive Annie. The strong Annie. The beautiful Annie. _Yes_, he thinks to himself. _She is beautiful._ Even the damaged Annie. This is the Annie that Finnick knows. And she knows him. She may be the only one who truly knows all about him.

He can't let her get sucked into the life of an addict.

"I don't know if she can handle it," says Turlach.

"We'll help her. I'll help her," says Finnick sternly.

"Yeah, but for how long, brother?"

"As long as I can," says Finnick, turning to look at both Mags and Turlach. "As long as I'm alive."

Turlach looks directly at Finnick, giving him just as stern a look. "Good."

Finnick just nods and turns back to Annie's sleeping form on the sofa. Images invade his mind as to how she might have been the night her father died. _What happened?_ _Who else may have been there?_ _Was her father going mad?_ Even though he can't fathom that Annie's dad may have done something to cause his own death, he still has a lingering doubt about it if that was the case. Mr. Cresta never showed any signs that he was changing, that he was going mad. _And why would it be him?_ _Annie's psychological trauma stemmed from being in the Games, didn't it?_

The problem with that presumption was that he had not known Annie before then. She did live in a community home for a while before the Games, of that he knew. He couldn't have known if her stay there didn't affect her somewhat already. He never asked about her time there.

"What happened after?" asks Finnick.

Turlach clears his throat a little, as if he's hesitant to tell him. "The peacekeepers came and took the body." Turlach pauses again.

"And?"

"They reported it as self defense on Annie's part."

Finnick tenses up and his face hardens. Of course. Even the peacekeepers have decided not to investigate it any further. It's just as well, thinks Finnick.

"Garcen?"

"Yeah, he was here. He said that he was doing it for Annie's own good, reporting it that way. He said he could've taken her in… but she got… hysterical," Turlach pauses again as Finnick puts his head in his hands in. Finnick's whole body shakes for several seconds. "Garcen just laughed it off and said he didn't want the trouble of confining her that way."

"He laughed?" asks Finnick grimly, turning again to look at Turlach.

"More like chuckled, I guess," says Turlach, sensing that maybe he shouldn't have said that last part.

Suddenly, Finnick slams his fist on the table so hard that even Mags, who hardly ever reacts in fear to anything, jumps. So does Turlach. And so does Annie.

Annie's eyes open and she gasps at the sound. Her reaction means to be fast, but with the sleep syrup still in her system, her body can't move fast enough and she falls on the floor and starts crawling away from the noise until she hits the wall, shrieking and sobbing in terror.

Finnick rushes over to her, falling on his knees next to her crouching form.

"Annie!" he calls to her. His hand reaches out to her, but when he barely touches arm, she shrieks and takes a defensive swipe at him.

Finnick barely feels the scratch from her nails on his cheek, but he grabs her wrists before she can make contact again.

"No! No!" cries Annie, her face turned away from him, eyes closed. She is confused. She is hysterical.

"Annie! It's me! It's me!" pleads Finnick. Her sobs drown out his words. "Annie, please!" Finnick pulls her arms towards him, but that only causes Annie to use her legs, kicking one of his arms. Finnick has no choice but to let go to prevent them both from being hurt more. She crawls only a few feet away before crouching again, in the corner of the room, her face hidden behind her arms that wrap tightly around her knees.

Annie's anguished cries turn into sobs. Turlach, who has been standing behind Finnick, sighs and starts to move towards Annie slowly, but Mags stops him with her cane, hitting him firmly across his gut, though not enough to hurt him. She looks at Turlach and shakes her head, then points to Finnick.

"Go. Slowly," says Mags as she motions Finnick to try again with Annie.

Finnick looks at Mags and realizes his approach was all wrong. He was too anxious, too eager, and too frantic to get to her and calm her down. He needs to be gentle, slow in speaking, and careful in his movements. He takes Mags' advice and slowly moves closer to Annie.

"Annie," he says softly.

Annie tries to cover her ears, but she also doesn't want to release her arms from her legs, and instead just tries to put her head down even further into her chest so that her arms on either side could try to quiet the voice that's talking to her. The voice sounds familiar, kind even. But she's having a hard time concentrating. The voice calls her name again and she remembers.

_It's him._ To her, it's been a voice that has only just been in her head for a while now. A voice that she began to accept as long gone. With Finnick, she always had a sense that somehow, for some reason, he would change his mind about spending time with her and abandon her. But she pushed those thoughts, because he did come back. But days turned into weeks and time passed slowly. And those thoughts of abandonment returned, ushered by the assurance from someone else that Finnick really wasn't coming back. When her father died, the stability that had slowly been building up in her mind was rapidly crashing down.

_It's not real. It can't be. He's gone. He went away and didn't come back. _That's what was said to her.

_He isn't coming back._ That was also said to her.

"Annie, please hear me," he says with as much calmness as he can muster.

Finnick is so close to her now. His voice resonates in her ear and she notices a difference. It's much clearer than how it sounds in her head.

_But he's not here. He's not here._

"Yes, I am," he whispers. "I'm right here."

Finnick's breath causes some strands of her hair to move and she feels the warmth of it on the side of her face. She flinches just slightly, but she doesn't move away.

_Is it real?_ Annie slowly opens her eyes, peering through the thick strands of hair that cover her face. She can only see part of his face, but she recognizes the shape of his jaw, even if she's still not entirely focused.

"Fin- Finnick?" she whispers back. Her throat is dry and painful. She doesn't understand why.

A sound between a sigh and a sob comes out of Finnick's mouth.

_Is he really here? _

"Yes, Annie, I'm really here," he says. Fingers gently move the hair away from her face as she lifts up her head halfway up from behind her arms. Her eyes look on his chin first, then his nose, then the scratch on his cheek that has left a thin line of blood. _What happened to his face?_ Her eyes shift to his sandy brown hair that looks a little too polished, and finally up to his eyes. His piercing sea-green eyes, glistening in the light. _Has he been crying?_

"Not enough," he replies. He moves some of her hair away from her face so he can see her eyes better. So she can see him better.

"Can you hear me?" asks Annie. Her voice is hoarse.

"Every word," he says. He slowly brings his hand up to cup one side of her face, and brushes away the tears with his thumb. Then it hits her. The assault on her. Her father's death. The grief that followed. And she falls into sorrow again.

"Finnick. He's dead. My father. My fa… he tried-" she cannot continue. She feels his hands cup her face. She hears his voice shushing her kindly. New tears burn her eyes and fall down her cheeks leaving cold trails. She feels his warmth, though. He's so close to her. She can't stop crying. She tries to talk, but only sobs come out.

"Shhh," he says. She accepts him as he pulls in her close, but the pain is still there, and it won't let her go.

Then she feels his lips press against her forehead.

"I'm sorry," he says. _I'm sorry that your father died._

Against her temple.

"I'm sorry," he says. _I'm sorry that you're in pain._

Against her cheek.

"I'm so sorry," he repeats. _I'm sorry I wasn't here for you._

They are brief and light, but in the midst of her pain, those soft touches give her glimpses of comfort, as if a little bit of her is healing with each tender kiss.

Then his lips press gently against her own, only for a moment. Not enough to react. Not enough to make it into something more. This isn't the time for that, and it isn't his purpose. His hands are still on her face and he pulls her head slowly to his, taking in each other's breath. Her sobs quiet down again.

"Annie," whispers Finnick. Just having him say her name calms her, but her body shivers in spite of it.

Finnick moves his hands from her face and, with one arm underneath her legs and another around her back, just underneath her shoulders, and he slowly pulls her up onto his lap.

She holds onto the side of his neck as he wraps his arms around her. Annie moves her head up, staring at him. She observes the concentration on his face and the tension in his jaw as he adjusts himself to make her more comfortable, then when he finally looks into her eyes, she can't help but see the darkness in them, and the pain. She moves her hand from his neck to his cheek, not realizing that he has done the same thing until his thumb grazes across her bruise again. They don't speak.

Annie even wonders if they are the same person, feeling the same pain, feeling the same comfort, feeling the same heartbeat. Seconds pass and he gently pulls her head closer to him to place a soft kiss between her eyebrows. After that, she rests her head in the crook of his neck. Her sobs turn into deep and slow breaths that warm his chest.

Still, more tears fall slowly down her cheeks, eventually falling on him. He lets them.

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><p><em>As always, reviews and comments are welcome.<em>


	15. Chapter 15

**_This story takes place after the completion of the 70th Hunger Games (during the 5 years prior to Katniss & Peeta's first Hunger Games)_**

**_In this chapter, the 73rd Hunger Games have now passed. Finnick returns home after about 6 weeks being at the Capitol, and starts off the same day from the previous chapter._**

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><p>Chapter 15: No More What Ifs<p>

Finnick opens his eyes, trying to regain his senses as to where he's at and what time it is. It takes all of two seconds.

He looks down to see Annie cradled in his arms. He hadn't let go of her, even in his sleep, and he was thankful for that. His shirt is now dry from where her tears fell and he feels a pang of sorrow, of guilt for only having just come now, but he pushes that feeling aside as he knows he will have to deal with more of that later. By the darkness outside and how he feels, he guesses that it's been about two hours they've been in this position.

Of course now he's incredibly uncomfortable. Parts of his body still feel numb from the sitting position he slept in, against the wall. It didn't help that he held Annie in place, on his lap. She wasn't heavy by any means, but being in that position for who knows how long, even her weight can start to feel twice as heavy. Still, he wouldn't have done it any differently. He would've lain on a bed of spears if it meant keeping her protected. Besides, this was nothing compared to what she's been through this past week, he reminded himself.

Annie's hand lay flat on his chest, but he can see the wrinkles of his shirt underneath her palm. She's been struggling in her sleep, grabbing and releasing his shirt in tension. He tries to look on her face, but her head is nestled closely into the crook of his neck, her breathe going in and out unevenly. He places his hand on top of her, taking in the sensation of her warm touch.

It has been weeks since he last felt something this amazing. Weeks since he last breathed her in. Weeks since he last saw such beauty. Now, in this quiet moment, in the midst of tragedy, he truly knows this is where he needs to be. There is where he wants to be. With her in his arms. With Annie. If only that thought actually made him feel happy. Now he feels worse than ever.

When he was forced into working for the President, he made the decision to not get involved with anyone. He didn't figure anyone who knew his situation would really want to get involved with him either, especially those in his own district. They had all seen him on television several times, he's sure, and each time with another woman. Many people disapproved of his behavior, but didn't care to admit it especially since he had won them their monthly parcels for a full year. No complaints, no problems. Still, he could tell by the way they treated him and looked at him that they thought he was downright disgusting. Other people even tried to justify his actions as that of someone who was so distraught with the loss of his parents that he tried to find comfort in the women he was seen with. Only a very few knew the truth, and they were other victors.

After going through the emotions of grief, shame, guilt, anger, and pride, he finally came to the conclusion that maybe it was a good idea that people thought of him in that way. That he was not a good companion and that he could never be with anyone. The people of District 4 finally stopped giving him disapproving looks and more or less resumed cordiality with him. Aside from Turlach and Mags, he kept everyone else at arm's length. And now he remembers why.

He wonders how different things would've been if Annie had not been reaped four years ago. She would still probably be in the community home, which was never something she really talked about so he gathers that it's not a time in her life that she's fond of. But maybe at least her dad would still be alive. Sure, he would not have known her, but at least she would be fine. At least she wouldn't be such an emotional mess as she is now. She would be able to sleep soundly, not having recurring nightmares of kids dying at the hands of other kids or muttation attacks or drowning. She would probably be a much happier person.

Or maybe, if when she was reaped, things turned out differently. Maybe if she the damn hadn't broken the way it did and she still had to fight. She most certainly would've died. _What was it that Haymitch had said again? Something about their last days being in the lap of luxury? Would that have been better for her? To die in the arena?_

He shakes his head of the thoughts. He can't start thinking that way now. Those thoughts don't matter. Those are "what ifs", and there's no point to them except to regret the past and forget the here-and-now. _No_, he reprimands himself. _This isn't helping Annie. You're supposed to be helping her now. Forget about what could've been._

He knows he likes her immensely, more than he wants to admit to himself. He doesn't know when these feelings for her changed, but he honestly only meant to help her as a friend. He never meant for it to get to a point where she felt lost without him. He knows it would just make things harder for both of them. But his emotions got the better of him today. Her anguish drew him closer to her than he planned.

Maybe it is the fact that he shifts a little, or maybe his inhales and exhales are deeper and longer. Either way, it stirs Annie awake and she jars head out of the crook of his neck, gripping his shirt tightly. She gasps in two short inhales before she realizes where she is.

Annie looks straight at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light, trying to focus onto his eyes. Suddenly, her arms wrap around his neck, hugging him tightly. She whispers Finnick's name so affectionately, he can't help but choke back a sob.

"You're really here," says Annie. Her voice is terribly hoarse, but she sounds as clear-minded as ever.

"I really am," he says through her hair. They stay in that position for a while before she finally lets up and pulls back to look in his eyes again. He gently brushes off her hair from her face, and he sees her red swollen eyes looking right back at him. No fogginess in them, but they are undeniably worn out from nights of restless sleep or crying, or both.

She reaches to touch his face, her fingers lightly tracing the outside of his eyebrows, the curve of his nose, and the dip of his chin.

"Finnick, my dad…" says Annie as she keeps her eyes on his chin, her bottom lip quivers before she can say anything else.

"Shh, it's okay. You don't have to talk about it now." He pulls her forehead to his as he continues to keep her from breaking down again. It takes a few more moments to break from each other and another few to gather the strength to get up off the floor. When they're both standing, Finnick notices the strain on Annie's face.

"Are you okay?" he asks. Annie hesitates at his question.

"I'll be okay," she says, trying to mask the tension in her voice. Finnick wants to say more, but he realizes that Mags is now standing in front of them.

"Come here," she demands in an almost motherly way.

Finnick instinctively takes Annie's hand and they slowly walk towards her. Clearly Annie is trying to suppress the pain, but she knows that Finnick can see it since the grimace on his face is starting to look like anger. Her heart starts racing as fear invades her mind yet again. Not for fear of Finnick, but of something much worse. She knows she can't tell him, but she can't hide this injury from him either and Mags knows that also. Mags looks up at Annie and tries to reassure her, as if letting explaining to Annie that Finnick needs to know in order for him to help take care of her. Annie indiscreetly nods in assent.

"What's going on Mags?" asks Finnick.

Mags motions for Annie to lie down on the sofa and she does so, lying on her side. Mags sits on the edge of the sofa and gives Finnick her cane to hold. He's not sure what's going on, but as Mags starts lifting Annie's top slowly, it becomes clear to him. Once the hem of Annie's shirt is lifted halfway up to reveal what she's been hiding, a heat surges through him and he clenches his jaw. His mouth goes dry and suddenly he's in a daze. He hears a muffled pounding sound but doesn't acknowledge it.

Just above Annie's waistline, on the left side of her midsection, is a very large, black and purple bruise, the size of it practically overtaking the whole side. He knows that doesn't just happen from one hit; she must have been hit a several times in the same spot. She then says something to Annie about being careful, but Finnick is having a hard time listening as his mind reels from what it was that hurt Annie so badly, and who caused it.

Annie touches the side of his face and he realizes that he's on his knees beside her. Finnick exhales, releasing the breath that he had been holding since he saw her injury. "What happened, Annie?" he asks. He has to know, but he has a feeling she won't tell him.

"Please, Finnick," whispers Annie.

"Who did this?"

Annie shakes her head, her eyes burning with more tears. Finnick doesn't have the heart to continue pushing her about it, seeing the tiredness and pain in her eyes. The pain never left her eyes; she had been trying to hide it instead.

Just then Turlach comes in holding a pot of Finnick presumes to be food. He sees what's going on and calls Finnick over to the kitchen. Finnick is about to protest until he catches Mags' eyes and gets the hint that he needs to go help his brother. He looks at Annie one more time to see if she's okay with it as well, and she gives him a faint smile.

"I'll be right back," says Finnick.

Turlach explains to him that Annie is badly bruised, but nothing is broken. One of the doctors from the medical building came by to make sure there wasn't anything broken. He advised them to have Annie go to the medical building, but she wouldn't even leave the house. So, the doctor gave them a few bottles of sleep syrup and left. After that, Mags has been checking on it periodically to make sure it didn't get any worse.

"Although she might've aggravated it earlier today," says Turlach. "Sorry, Finnick, I didn't mean that you-"

"It's okay," says Finnick.

"There's more bruises." Turlach waits for Finnick to respond, but Finnick doesn't know if he even wants to ask. He doesn't know if the pain in his chest can take it.

"Where?" asks Finnick.

Turlach pauses and takes a deep breath, as he seems to be apt to doing when he's about to deliver distressing news.

"Her neck. Back. Legs."

Finnick grabs hold of the back of the chair until his knuckles turn white. He knows what that could mean, and the anger is choking him, knocking the lungs out of his chest, stabbing his heart with each thump. He squeezes his eyes shut to try and stop all this hurt, but it's still there. He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder more and more until he feels the hand shove him, forcing Finnick to open his eyes. Turlach is standing there, speaking to him, even though he can't hear him for the first few seconds.

"-need to stop. This isn't helping!" Finnick refocuses again. "This isn't helping, brother," says Turlach again, with much less urgency. Finnick looks over into the living room. Apparently, however Finnick was reacting while holding on so tightly to the back of the chair is causing Annie to cover her ears again. He's about to go to her when Turlach pulls him back. "She needs you, remember? Now is not the time to try and find out who did this to her. If anything were to happen to you, too-," Turlach shifts his eyes. "Understand?"

Finnick looks at his older brother and notices how pale and thin Turlach looks. "I understand."

Turlach lets him to and he's kneeling by Annie's side again, gently stroking her arm, coaxing her hands away from her ears. "I'm sorry, Annie."

When she sees his face, she wraps her arms around his neck and he does the same around her waist, but gently, remembering the bruise there.

"I can't-," she tries to explain.

"I know." He doesn't know, but he hopes in time he will.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Finnick couldn't sleep. He was unbelievably tired and sore, but he couldn't sleep. His mind wandered too much, and every time he closed his eyes, the image of Annie's bruise kept popping into his head. It was heartbreaking to see, but it was also making him frustrated and angry that he couldn't do anything about it. He has a very good idea of who it was that killed her father and hurt Annie, and it was making him crazy not being able to do anything about it. But he knows he can't act on it now. Turlach was right; he needs to be there for Annie now. He will have to deal with Garcen later, if that is, in fact, who it was. The problem with factoring him as the killer is that Garcen is the Head Peacekeeper. It's not that he didn't think he could take on Garcen, but having it out with a peacekeeper, let alone the Head Peacekeeper was basically suicide.

You just don't do it, unless you had a death wish. Finnick did not. Also, he had to be sure it was him. Thoughts and questions flood his mind. _Why would Garcen target Annie? Garcen has never spoken to Annie before. Annie would never speak to Garcen._ But he was away for six weeks. Still, Finnick is sure that Turlach or Mags would have told him about Garcen if they saw him wandering about Victor's Village.

Finnick gets up out of bed. It is no use trying to sleep now. He walks across the hall to see if Annie is sleeping okay. After they had finished eating earlier that evening, it was decided that they move her out of the house for the time being. They all agreed that it would be in Finnick and Turlach's house, basically so both of them could keep an eye on her and also because she had the best rest with Finnick around. Mags helped pack some clothes and some other necessities and they all walked together back to their houses. Finnick realized the moment he brought her in the house that he also had not stepped foot in it yet since his return. It felt appropriate somehow that they went in together.

When gets to her room and peers through the open door, she's not there. His heart beats rapidly in his chest. He tries not to panic and goes downstairs only to find her sitting on the sofa. It's dark, but he can still see her frame from the illumination the upstairs light is giving off, and he turns on the living room light through the fader so it doesn't hurt their eyes.

"Annie?" She blinks.

"Sorry," says Annie. Finnick moves to sit next to her, positioning himself at an angle to face her. Annie's hair is out of sorts again, and he resists the temptation to move in and brush it away from her face. He can see her eyes are wet from tears and even though he's reached out to her a million times before, he's hesitant to do so now.

"Don't be," he says. He tries to think of something else to say.

"Did you love your parents?" asks Annie. The question throws Finnick a little.

"Yes, I did. Very much."

"When they died, how long did it take you to stop crying?"

The memory of his parents comes back to him, how he and his brother cried for days after. His brother recovered faster, though. Turlach started talking about the need to stop feeling sorry for ourselves. It was the first time he ever sounded tough. Finnick had so many nights where he woke up crying, though, almost ashamed to say it because he has never talked to anyone about it before. And maybe because he felt he was supposed to be tougher, considering he was now a Hunger Games Victor.

"I don't know. A couple of weeks, I think."

"I didn't cry when my mom died. I don't know why. I think I loved her, but-," she doesn't say more, but a tear rolls down her cheek.

"Sometimes we don't know how to deal with things, I guess. You were only ten."

She lets out a hollow laugh. "I don't know if I really loved my dad. I was so angry with him when he left me in the community home. I think I even hated him, but I can't stop crying now." Another tear rolls down, and she turns to look at him. "Does that make sense?"

Finnick shakes his head and says, "I don't know, Annie." He reaches out to her and cries even more now as he wraps his arms around her shoulders and lets her cry until she falls asleep for a second time in less than a day.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

It is still very early in the morning when Finnick opens his eyes to see Annie lying next to him on the sofa. He recalls the events of the night in a flash. She had cried until she fell asleep and he laid her down on the sofa, but she woke when he tried to leave, so he lay on his side against the back of the sofa, with her back up against his chest and he let her use his arm to lay her head as he carefully lay his other arm across her collarbone, almost as if to keep her from falling over the edge of the sofa. He remembered how she wrapped her small fingers around his forearm, too, holding on to him.

Now she was facing him, awake and observant. Her eyes are puffy from her tears and her hair is away from her face. The light has just barely begun to shine through the window, but it's enough to put give warmth to his cheek. Annie's face shines with an angelic glow, and he can see the different tones of green in her eyes. _Or maybe I'm just imagining things_, he thinks.

Finnick realizes the warmth on his cheek is not from the light of the sun, but from the palm of her hand. He doesn't even notice how close her face is until her lips meet his.

There's a sudden rush of heat that runs from his face to his ears down to the tips of his toes, and then goose bumps. His heart is pounding so hard now that he's sure Annie can hear it. It only lasts for two or three seconds, but for him, it felt like two or three minutes. She then moves her hand from his face to where his heart his.

"Thank you," says Annie, and she rests her head comfortably back onto his arm and closes her eyes to sleep some more.

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><p><em>Okay, I'm going to apologize for this chapter. I had written a completely different tone to this chapter and I really wasn't feeling it, so I practically rewrote it and it was rushed. I don't like rushing, I'm sorry, but I also didn't want to leave some of you hanging, so hopefully you like it anyway. If you do, please let me know, so I don't feel so bad about it. :)<em>


	16. Chapter 16

_**Disclaimer: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. **_

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><p><em><strong><strong><em>This chapter takes place about three weeks after the events in Chapter 15, and a little less than a year before the 74th Hunger Games.<em>****_

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><p>Chapter 16: Going back and moving forward<p>

When Annie was 13, the head administrator of community home allowed her and some other 13-year-olds to go on a trip to the beach. That was one of the few times she was truly happy during her stay at the home, because it was away from the home. And it was a rare treat to not only get away from that wretched place, but also to spend time in such luxurious scenery. Or that's what Annie thought of it at the time, before she had seen what a beautiful beach the Victor's Village had. Still, it was so fun. She and the other kids were having so much fun together, they forgot for that moment that they didn't usually play well together. They didn't play at all, really.

There just wasn't a lot of time for that at the home. There were classes, chores, work, more chores, homework, clean-up, shower, thirty minutes each for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and sleep. Saturdays were used for "volunteer" work, where they helped out anywhere help was needed. The kids didn't necessarily volunteer. They were pretty much picked from a lineup by people who came by the community home looking for extra hands to help them. It could've been anything from helping at a merchant store to cleaning up around the town after a wild storm or a devastating hurricane. Sometimes, if a kid was decent looking enough, someone would pick them to help with a party of some mildly wealthy town merchant. Annie had been chosen a few times to help during weddings. She was so mesmerized by the beauty of the bride's dress, which usually was white, if the family could afford it. But she didn't care if it was white or black or every color of the rainbow. Every dress she had seen was beautiful and it made the bride all the more beautiful, especially if she was smiling. Then there were the decorations, which she sometimes helped put up, and the traditions during the ceremony – she learned about some of the more common ones, like the netting during the vows, the traditional wedding song, and the kiss between the bride and groom with salt water that sealed the union. She wasn't supposed to be watching, she was supposed to be working during the ceremony, but she would always try to sneak off just to see those traditions, especially the kiss.

Every Sunday was Pool Day. But really, it was the community home's form of training to prepare the kids for the Games. Technically, they weren't allowed to train, so it wasn't labeled as such in the community home records. It was labeled as "recreational time." Those in charge of Pool Day, the administrators of the community home as well as some of the peacekeepers, used the day to work the kids to the limit, starting with basic warm up drills like pushups, jumping jacks and sit ups, but most of the day was spent swimming. They didn't want to draw attention to the kids by putting muscle on them, so it was always swimming. Sometimes they would have the kids race each other and if the peacekeepers were especially malicious that day, they'd even have the kids have one more race _after_ eating lunch. The peacekeepers would just laugh or bet on which one of the kids would cramp up first, practically drowning as they tried to get to the edge of the pool.

It happened one time during Annie's stay there. One of the boys, a 16-year-old, was sent to the medical building when he couldn't get his head above water during one of those after-lunch races. It took the peacekeepers a while to realize the boy was under longer than he should've been before one of the other kids recovered well enough to go back and pull him up. He ended up being okay, but he escaped the medical building and was never seen from again. Annie didn't know the boy personally, and wondered about him in the weeks that followed. When she was still there, she imagined being the boy who escaped, living safely and happily away from the walls of the community home and away from the hands of those that were supposedly there to take care of them. She had wished that for him.

Pool Day was an especially fearful time for Annie, not because of the exercise or the swimming, but because of the people that Pool Day brought in. The peacekeepers. One in particular had made her time in the community home one of the worst times of her life, apart from being in the Games themselves. Not even the death of her mother was this emotionally painful for her.

Annie was never particularly scared of peacekeepers, but that all changed when she saw the worst of them enter the doors of the pool area of the home. That was the first time she met Head Peacekeeper Garcen. She had been in the community home for about a year when he started talking to her on the sidelines. He seemed friendly enough at first even though his breath smelled sour from alcohol, but she never really felt comfortable being around him. She didn't know why she felt so nervous, but in the weeks that followed, his topic of conversation with her quickly turned from friendliness to lewdness, talking about improper things and asking about her intimate experiences with boys, which she had never had before. Things became decidedly worse after that as his lewdness combined with physical contact, little touches at first, maybe on the shoulder, on the neck, safe places. Unfortunately, it didn't stay that way for long as his touches became more bothersome and on parts of her that she knew wasn't right. She wanted to scream, to run away from him, from them, from the home. But she didn't know where she could go and if she were to get caught, she would surely receive the worst whipping of her life. She was only 12 and scared and so unaware of what surrounded District 4, she couldn't possibly know where to go anyway. No one would take her in, and her father would surely get in trouble if she went to him. _What could he do anyway?_ She thought. At that age, she knew that she couldn't speak to anyone about it. If she told anyone, she had a feeling that she would be the one in trouble, the one to get hurt. Garcen was a peacekeeper, he was the head peacekeeper and there was no safe way out for her. So, instead of running or screaming, in times where she suddenly found herself alone with him, she froze. She became a mute, too afraid to speak or do anything and too ashamed to say anything to anyone. The head administrator must have known about it and just turned his head and looked the other way, or else Annie wouldn't have been alone with him when he came to visit the community home. She was alone on this and she knew there was nothing she could do to stop Garcen from taking advantage of the situation Annie was in.

Garcen had found a way to get to Annie and she was forced to be with him, and she couldn't physically stop him since he was much bigger than her. The first time they were alone, she cried. She felt so helpless and ashamed and unbelievably scared that she thought she would die because her heart was beating so painfully hard and fast in her chest. Annie couldn't help but cry. She continued to cry on the nights after her encounters with Garcen, but she would always try to keep herself from showing any emotion when she was with him. She learned early on that crying only made Garcen smirk as if they were playing a power game and he had won. She fought against tears after the first few times, vowing not to give Garcen the advantage of seeing her as a weakling, but she always struggled with it, fighting against her own emotions. It was especially difficult to contain her emotions when he was heavily drunk, because he would sometimes hit her across the face just to see the fear in her eyes, to see if he could make her cry again. Sometimes he was successful.

The only reason Garcen stopped was because she was reaped and became a victor. That was, until the night her father died…

Annie's mind wanders back to that day she was on the beach with the other community kids. It was such a beautiful time. So fun. She looks out at the water again. She's not afraid of the water, she never was. She still fears the voices and the screams that echo in her head when a particularly large wave crashes along the shore, but that doesn't come very often anymore. One of the kids asks her what she's doing. She smiles at him, but she can't make out the face. The voice sounds familiar, but she still can't place it, and she just smiles. Her feet move across the wet sand and a small wave creeps up along her ankles. She feels the coolness of the water and it feels good on her warm skin.

Annie decides to take another step into in, feeling the cool waves cover her knees, her thighs, her waist. She can't help but take another step forward into the coolness of it. This is so much better than the pool at the home. She's 13 again, taking in the beauty of the water. But something tugs at her mind and she hesitates for a moment, trying to figure out what it is. Another wave invites her and she moves forward again. She feels her hair swaying in the waves of the ocean. She hears nothing but the lull of the ocean and it's so tranquil. She wants to stay in this calmness forever. The ground is no longer under her and she feels herself floating and it's so relaxing.

_Wait_, she thinks. The tugging in her mind is harder this time. She squeezes her eyes harder, trying to squeeze it away from her mind, but the tugging only brings an image closer to her. _Annie_, a voice calls to her. His gentle smile and his sea-green eyes come to her mind. She remembers a kiss. A kiss to comfort her. His kiss. _What are you doing?_

Slowly, the sounds of her surroundings come back to her. The haze clears and she realizes where she is. She knows how to swim but is panicking now, not knowing exactly how she got there and how long she's been out there in the water. She begins to tread instinctively and wonders if she really heard his voice. She turns and sees that she has gone quite a distance from the shore. A figure swims toward her and she realizes that it really is Finnick. Finnick grabs her arm and pulls her towards him, trying to swim and guide her at the same time.

When they finally get to where the sand is, they both get on their feet and start walking until they're away from the waves. Finnick collapses onto his knees on the sand, and Annie falls next to him.

"Annie-," he says, trying to catch his breath.

"I'm sorry, Finnick! I didn't-," interrupts Annie. She's scared of what he'll say; she's scared of his anger, although she's never really heard him yell in anger before.

"Annie-," he says again.

"I didn't know. I wasn't trying…I wasn't-," she tries to continue, but Finnick just pulls her close to him, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. She's so surprised that she doesn't reciprocate immediately, but finally melts into him as she feels his breath on her neck.

Finnick isn't sure what to say, but he couldn't stand hearing Annie blame herself for what happened when he considers it his fault. He was the only one with her at the time, and lately her actions haven't been all that stable since her father's death. She's taken the habit of wandering around the house and the village without telling anyone and whenever one of them finds her, she's always in a haze. Finnick can usually bring her back with just a whisper of her name and a touch of his hand, or sometimes a kiss, but not on her lips. He had not kissed her on the lips since that morning after he returned from the Capitol.

It has been weeks since that day. He wanted to help Annie get through her emotional trauma without confusing it with any romantic notions, especially since he has been trying so hard to keep himself at a distance from that type of relationship. He knows that he hasn't always been successful lately when it comes to Annie, but he still tries. He can't afford to play with her emotions like that and he certainly can't afford to put her in more danger than she already puts herself in.

He wants to say he's sorry, but he has a suspicion that will not make Annie feel better.

"Annie, you went for a swim," he says through her hair before pulling back to look at her in the eyes. "Without me." She looks at him curiously at first, and then realizes that he's actually trying to diffuse the seriousness of what just happened and make her smile. She laughs in surprise.

.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

~.~.~.~.~,~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

He paces in his room, listening for anything out of the ordinary. Annie is still in the shower. This is part of his routine. One could almost say he's beyond being overprotective of her, but after this morning, it only confirms that he's not overreacting.

Normally he's awake before she is, but there are times when she's up before the sun is out. And mostly it's because of a nightmare, which he wakes up to easily if she's screaming in terror or crying in despair from it. This time was different, because this time she left the house. Annie had woken up and gone quietly outside, still in the clothes she had fallen asleep in, walked out onto the beach and into the water without being fully conscious of what she was doing and decided to just go for a swim. Obviously, she didn't decide it.

He knows it wasn't her intent, and he just can't blame her for it. Her nightmares have gotten worse and her daymares, or whatever they are, have become more frequent. He knows he should've been more alert.

The water stops and he listens intently for any sounds of distress. But all he hears is the shuffling of feet and what he can distinguish as the opening of a drawer and closet.

After one more minute, he exhales in relief and goes downstairs silently to prepare something to eat. It is late morning and he's been ignoring the rumblings of his stomach since he woke up. He's sure Annie needs to eat as well. He pulls out the frying pan to cook some eggs quickly and has them ready and plated, along with some bread.

It doesn't take long for Annie to get dressed and she comes slowly down the stairs, her hair still wet from the shower, but combed neatly away from her face. Annie's dressed in a knee length powder blue dress with thick straps. It's the first time since Finnick has returned from the Capitol that she's worn a dress before, but he's just realizing that now only because it's the first time he can actually see the faint trace of bruises on her upper arms.

A heat rises in his chest and face and he clenches his jaw. Annie notices this, but mistakes his anger for something else, and she looks down at the wooden floor, flush with shame.

"I'm sorry," she says timidly. Finnick just stares, confused.

"What?" he asks.

She eyes the plate of food on the table and her stomach urges her to eat, but she doesn't respond to it. She doesn't even want to move. She's scared to move.

"I know you're mad. At me. But I-," she says before Finnick moves close to her and, with just a touch to her chin, stops her from continuing . He lifts her face up to him. She hesitates for a moment before slowly drawing her eyes to look upon his. When she does, the darkness is gone from them, revealing only dazzling green hues. His face softens before her into genuine compassion.

"I'm not mad at you, Annie. I'm mad at myself for not being here when you needed help. I'm mad that you feel like you have to deal with this by yourself. I'm mad at what happened to you," says Finnick. He gently grazes his fingers across her upper arms, tracing over the hint of the bruises that she had kept hidden. "I'm mad at the one who did this to you."

She looks down at her arm, where his hand is, and realizes that the bruise, even though it's barely noticeable to a stranger's eyes, is not undetected by Finnick. She crosses her arms to cover up both sides with her hands, gently pushing his hand away from the bruise, embarrassed. He sighs, but instead of walking away, instead of making her feel guilty, he brings himself closer to her, enveloping her in his arms. He notices the scent of her shampoo as he lays his cheek on her head.

Annie gives into the comfort of his embrace. She remembers how she grew to hate it when people would embrace her. Her time in the community home did that to her. Any sort of affection she received she came to loathe. The twisted act of embracing, of kissing, of just touching from hands that weren't compassionate or gentle of loving. It became all distorted and she loathed it.

But with Finnick, it seems she found that his touches, his embraces, his kisses, were something of what she thinks it's supposed to be. No, she knew that's what it's supposed to be – acts of compassion and gentle affection. And she desired it more each day. She found peace in it. She missed that when he was gone for those six weeks. Sure, her father hugged her and cared for her as a loving father should, but she longed for Finnick in a different way.

"I missed you," says Annie, her face leaning against his chest. She doesn't know what he'll say next, but she knows she can't be alone in this admission. Two seconds go by.

"I missed you, too, Annie. I missed you a lot," says Finnick finally.

His reciprocation gives her hope.

"Do you like me?" she asks. Another two seconds go by. She feels his chest inhale deeply, then exhale.

"Very much."

She knows this final question may not end how she hopes it will, but she wants him to know how she feels.

"Do you like me enough to kiss me?" asks Annie, less confident than her previous questions.

Finnick hesitates even longer this time. He has been avoiding that desire because of what it could mean if things between him and Annie became more serious, more intimate. He doesn't care as much about what it could mean for him as he does about what it could mean for her. It's too revolting to even think that he could even have a relationship with Annie, and then have to deal with those women at the Capitol. He's already a little upset at himself for already admitting that he likes her.

"Annie-,"

"I know what you do," says Annie. This stops Finnick. She pulls back to look at him, confusion and a little bit of guilt shows on his face. "I know you don't want to do it, but you do anyway. I saw it on your face when you left with that woman at the banquet. I saw it before you left on the train. You hate it. I know you do." Annie waits to let her words sink in. "I don't care. I still like you. I know you care about me. I know how you make me feel when I'm with you, and it's more than I ever thought I could feel about someone." She pauses and takes a breath. "I know I'm not always thinking straight. And I do stupid things all the time, and I don't say the right things, and I'm messed up. But you… you always bring me back. Even when you're not here, just thinking about you, remembering you and the way you look at me, the way you hold me…" Annie reaches out to cup the side of his face. "You bring me back."

Finnick feels the ache in his heart as he lets the words find their way inside him and he's so taken with her and how clear and thoughtful she is at that very moment. Annie knows it's not his fault. Annie knows he hates what he does at the Capitol. Yet she's able to see him for who he really is and she still wants to be with him. All the precautions he's taken to keep their relationship as a friendship is breaking down and he sees now that he can't keep pushing her to a safe distance from him when he's constantly pulling her to him. He won't be able to hold himself to it.

"This is crazy," says Finnick. He puts his head down to touch hers.

"Okay, then I _am_ crazy," says Annie.

"No, _I_ am," he says. He brings his lips close to hers, slightly touching, hesitating as he looks her in the eyes, and he sees her sea-green eyes looking back at him, clear as day. Then he gently presses his lips to hers. For the first time, they let themselves feel it, let it linger for more than two seconds. And it's not out of sadness or pain that he's kissing her. It's not to keep her calm or comfort her from her despair. No. He's kissing her because he likes her, and she likes him.

Finnick pulls back to look at the flush on her face, the beauty in her smile. He's aware of her warm hands gently holding onto his sides, and he cups her face with both his hands, grazing her cheeks with his thumbs. He looks straight into her eyes and sees no regret, no fear, just acceptance. He wonders briefly how it is that she is constantly able to see through him and touch his heart like no other. As the corners of her mouth curve upward, he smiles back as he goes in for another, longer kiss.

* * *

><p><em>Again, thank you for continuing with this story. Still more to come, so I hope you're enjoying it!<em>


	17. Chapter 17

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: This chapter starts immediately following the events in Chapter 16, and about 6 months before the 74**__**th**__** Hunger Games. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick and Annie have now confessed their feelings for each other and are together as a couple. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, and Turlach Odair***_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T, but more for older teens. **_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 17: Hits and Misses<strong>

"Well, that's a big surprise," says Turlach sarcastically.

It took all of two minutes for Finnick to explain that his and Annie's relationship had taken a turn. Turlach wasn't the least surprised.

"What do you mean?" asks Finnick.

"Just saying. I thought you two were already there," says Turlach casually. "I mean, it's not like you have any problems getting a girl, considering all the wom-,"

Finnick shoves his brother in resentment, but not too hard, just enough to let Turlach know he's not happy with that current line of thought.

"It's not like that! _She's_ not like that, and you know it," says Finnick in a huff. He pauses for a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself. "Annie is important. She's special."

"I know," says Turlach coolly. "Sorry, I didn't mean any offense, little brother. I'm honestly happy that you two are together. You're both for each other. Anyone can see that… but… and not that it's any of my business, but does that mean you're going to stop 'seeing' other women?" Finnick knew he would have to answer that question sooner or later. Even though Annie knows about his predicament, it's not public knowledge to everyone, especially to his own brother, whom he's been trying to keep out of the loop.

"I can't," says Finnick, looking away from his brother's impending reaction. "I wish I could but I can't."

"Why?" asks Turlach, knowing full likely he's not going to get an actual answer, but hoping all the same as to why his little brother spends all his time with so many women in the Capitol. Finnick looks at him apologetically.

"Look, Turlach, it's just best you don't know. You have to trust me on that. Just know that… I'm not-, it's not-, there's a reason that I can't explain. It's the same reason I've been trying not to…" he sighs defeatedly before continuing, "…not to be with her. But Annie sees right through me and she still wants to be with me. She understands. She understands more than anyone, believe it or not." If she didn't understand Finnick, then this relationship between them could never have come about. Knowing that about her brings sudden warmth to Finnick's chest, a sense of contentment.

Turlach understands that part at least. "I believe it. Okay, nevermind. Like I said, it's none of my business. Just…you know, be careful," says Turlach, almost chastising, as if he were speaking for Mags as well as himself, because that's probably what Mags would've said to him, too. "You're not the only one that cares about her," he adds. Finnick looks at Turlach curiously, but concedes to that fact. Finnick smiles faintly and nods towards his brother before leaving his room.

As Finnick leaves his brother's room and makes his way downstairs to where Mags and Annie are, he thinks over the conversation he just had with Turlach. He wishes he could tell Turlach more, but doing so could put not only him in danger, but everyone else. This arrangement he has with Snow was not meant for everyone outside of certain circles to know about, especially anyone in the districts. If everyone were to find out, Finnick fears the danger that it can pose for those he cares about. That's always been his fear. But he was so close to telling his brother anyway. He wanted him to understand that Annie is something more, and that he doesn't care for the women in the Capitol. He wanted to tell him they paid for his company and that Snow was forcing him to do it because if he didn't, people could die, including Turlach.

But to tell him that would be to reveal the fact that he was at fault for their parents' death, also. He's not sure if Turlach would be able to forgive him for allowing something like that to happen, even though at the time, Finnick didn't know at what lengths Snow would take to get him to agree to this arrangement. It was still enough to keep his mouth shut to the idea of disclosing any information on it.

He admits to himself, too, that he isn't sure he could bare the shame of explaining all that to him. After all, it wasn't something that he had ever blatantly confessed to anyone. But some people just knew, like Annie did. Like Johanna. Like Haymitch. They knew because they had seen enough and had been through enough to know that the Capitol had no limits when it came to self-fulfillment and gratification. They know, each one of them, that the President is no saint.

As soon as Finnick gets down the stairs and sees her, all those thoughts of possible regret and shame and guilt are quickly forgotten as his eyes lock onto Annie's, a sea of green that mesh between them. Finnick sees nothing else and feels nothing until his hand finds hers and their fingers intertwine as easily and fluidly as interlocking pieces of a puzzle. They are meant to fit together, and it's strange to him to think after meeting her more than three years ago, that only now does he realize how right they are for each other.

His other hand reaches up to her face and lightly caresses her cheek with the back of his hand, and she leans into it briefly before he moves it through her silken hair and rests it on the base of her head, cradling and massaging lightly the back of her neck before he goes into to bring their lips together.

Her soft lips on his consumes him and all he can't think of anything else or anyone else. Not the smell of the food cooking on the stove, not the sound of the Turlach's footsteps coming down the stairs, or even the shuffling and intentional clearing of the throat of Mags close by. All he can hear is the pounding of his heart, which seems to threaten to break out of its cage within him and jump wave over wave. All he can smell is the scent of Annie's lightly scented skin, a combination of sweet fruit and possible natural oils that are much more subtle in smell than the overly perfumed socialites in the Capitol. Annie smells of true and natural beauty, and as subtle as it is, it completely draws him to her. And all he can feel is her smooth skin under his fingertips that send tingles up his spine and goose bumps down his arms, and her silken hair that teasingly touch his skin as he moves his hands through them, along with the soft, honeyed sensation of her lips that mold so comfortably into his own. All these qualities put together are enough to make a man completely forget everything else around him.

He doesn't even realize he is holding his breath until he breaks the kiss to take one. He takes another, much shorter, kiss before loosely wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his forehead against hers. He closes his eyes and breathes in, taking in her fragrance once again.

As she tightens her grip around him, she says, "I missed you."

Finnick chuckles lightly. "I was only upstairs for ten minutes."

"Sad, isn't it," she says. He notices a tiny bit of gloom in her tone, but gives her another kiss to help push away any other negative thoughts that might invade her mind and ruin this new feeling of bliss with Annie.

"It's okay," he says while rubbing big circles around her back. He releases Annie from his arms when he finally notices the other two people already sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner without them.

_How long were we kissing?_

Neither Mags nor Turlach say anything, but give each other knowing smirks across the table as Finnick and Annie finally join in to eat.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Days pass and each day brings new hope and more cheerfulness in their budding relationship as a couple. Finnick sees it in her smile and in the clarity of her eyes whenever they're in each other's embrace or after they kiss. And embrace and kiss often, they do. Always with sincerity and kindness towards one another. He has never felt this type of genuine affection before. He knows he never will but with Annie.

It's midday, and the air is warm even though it's winter, so they decide to go to the beach. The beach has somehow been a place for both dreams and nightmares for Annie, but she wants to rekindle the happiness that she once had for it when she was 13 years old, and she knows she can with Finnick by her side.

They spend the first half hour just walking along the shore, hand in hand. They stop every once in a while to kiss, first him, then her, back and forth they go, as if to remind each other of what their lips feel like. It's the first time they've been so open with each other outside of the house. Anyone can see. Well, anyone who lives in the Victor's Village at least. Still, their declaration is made and that's fine with him.

When they finally decide to sit and relax on the sand, Finnick bids Annie to sit down first and get comfortable, so she does. She straightens out her legs and folds her hands onto her lap, waiting for Finnick to sit beside her. But when he sits down, he settles himself right behind her, placing his legs on either side of her. She turns her head to look at him warily.

"What are you doing?" she asks. He shifts a little closer to her so that his chest is only inches away from her back, moves her hair to one side expose her shoulder and kisses it lightly.

"I want to give you something," he says assuredly.

"What?" she asks cautiously. Finnick chuckles and gently rests his hands on her shoulders.

"Just relax," says Finnick. She hesitates for a moment, not out of distrust, but confusion. Only when Finnick starts circling the base of her neck with his thumbs does she truly start to relax, even putting her head down further to give him more access to her neck. He hears her sigh in relief and he can't help but smile. When he's given her neck a considerable amount of attention, he works his way down to where her shoulder blades are and firmly massages the tension away, to which Annie gives another sigh of relief.

When he's finally done, he crosses his arms in front of her, pulling her back to him and he softy kisses her temple before resting his chin on her shoulder.

"Did you like that?" he asks.

"Mmhmm…I've never had anyone do that to me before. It was… really nice."

"Really nice," he repeats. This time she laughs. The sound of her laughter, although short and light, delights his ears. "You have a beautiful laugh."

Annie's cheeks turn a soft shade of pink. She shifts to the side to look up at his face and Finnick returns her gaze with sheer sincerity reflecting off his eyes. "I like it when you make me laugh," says Annie.

He dips his head down and catches her lips with his own, allowing the tingling sensation of her touch on his face to warm his whole being.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Weeks pass and their affection towards each other does not waver. Even the mundane tasks of cleaning, cooking, and washing become a pleasant time of togetherness. For him it was nice to be able to do regular chores like this with Annie. It helps remind him that she is part of his world, his real world.

Annie smacks his arm with the towel she was just about to fold.

"Ow," yelps Finnick more in surprise than in pain. He looks at her and sees something he had not seen on her face before. A slight mischievous grin. This is the first time she has shown signs of playfulness, and he's not about to let it go. Just as he's about to grab her around the waist, she runs.

Around the table she goes, and he follows with a chuckle. She runs to the living room, keeping the sofa between herself and Finnick. Sounds of her beautiful laughter fill the air. As he runs to one side, she moves to the other. Somehow they make it around the kitchen table again and then back to the sofa. When he makes the ultimate move and jumps over the sofa, he's finally able to grasp her wrist, effectively pulling her down on the floor.

For good measure, he grabs her other arm and pulls her wrists together above her head with both his hands, straddling her waist to keep her pinned, but careful not to put his actual weight on her. Still, it's enough to hold her steady where she is.

"Ha! Gotcha!" he sneers with a mock wickedness. He feels Annie struggling beneath him, trying to get her arms loose from his grip, but he tightens his grasp even more, not yet paying attention to the Annie's change in mood.

When he does, his devious grin very quickly fades to worry when he sees the wide-eyed look of panic in Annie's face. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Stop… let me go! Please stop!" pleads Annie. He releases her wrists and before he can even get himself up from on top of her, she quickly crawls backward away from him, using her now free hands and feet until she's back against the wall.

For the few seconds after, the only thing that can be heard is Annie's breathing. The distress in her face transforms to regret as she realizes that she essentially pulled away from the most important person in her life.

Finnick also realizes something in that agonizing moment - he still doesn't know everything about her. Pain sears into back of his eyes. He knows this must have something to do with a past event in her life, and he triggered the memory. He wants to be mad at whoever built this fear in her, but he feels too guilty to be mad at anyone but himself.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He pauses, hoping for a response to relieve him of any wrongdoing on his part. But he doesn't get one immediately, so he keeps his head down. A stinging sensation hits the back of his eyes and his heart grows heavy in his chest. "Do you want some time alone?"

He doesn't want to leave her alone, but he would separate himself from this room to give her time to herself without him watching. He would go to the kitchen and sit there and wait patiently. He would even go up to his room if she asked him to. He hurt her and the sudden change from romp to ruin makes him reconsider the idea of being with her. He would break if off in an instant if she wanted. He would essentially never be the same, but he would do whatever she wanted if it helped her to find true happiness. His heart pounds painfully just thinking about it.

"No," she says hoarsely. She slowly raises one of her hands to him, palm facing up. "I don't want to be alone." He looks at her solemnly, and wonders if she really wants him to touch her again, even if it's just to help her up. He doesn't refuse her hand, but gets up off the floor and moves just close enough to Annie to pull her up to stand.

"I'm sorry," he says. Annie just shakes her head at him, staring at the foot of space between them. He's not sure what to do.

"Do you want to sit?" he asks her. Annie nods. He slowly, lightly, holds her hand and pulls her in front of him to get to the sofa, allowing her to sit down. "Do you want some water or anything?" Annie looks up at him, seeing the dejected look on his face. He doesn't realize he's still holding her hand until she wraps her fingers tighter around it, preventing him from leaving.

"Can you sit with me?" she asks softly. He does so, being careful not to let his leg touch hers.

When she brings her legs up on the sofa on her side and lays her head down on his lap, he finally feels mollified enough to gently stroke her hair. "I hope one of these days you'll be able to tell me what happened to you," he whispers. She nods her head just a little.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Months pass and despite what happened during the one cat-and-mouse chase, their feelings for each are stronger than ever. He knows his boundaries and she trusts him implicitly, as long as he doesn't restrain her movements.

As they walk along the shore, Annie stops and looks out into the water. Finnick notices her shiver and he pulls her to him, wrapping her in warmth.

"You cold?" She doesn't say anything. "Annie. Look at me." A crease comes across her brow, dissipates with a shake of her head, and she looks up at him.

He smiles at her. "What is it?"

"You used to go every day." Now the crease forms on his brow.

"What?" he asks.

"Out there. You don't go on your boat anymore," says Annie rather curiously.

"I have no reason to," says Finnick and presses his lips to her forehead, then her temple, and as he's about to reach her lips, she cuts him off.

"Don't you miss it?"

"Not so much," he says. He wants to kiss her again, but she looks at him questioningly, waiting for more of an explanation. He sighs and says, "I did like going out there, but only because I felt at peace there. It was the only place I felt at peace for a while." A smile creeps up on his face. His hands move in slow circles around her back and she responds with her own smile. "But I don't need to go out on the boat anymore for that. Being with you, that's my peace now."

"That's nice," says Annie. He's not sure if her response is in regards to his explanation or his ministrations on her back, but he'll take her approval either way. He looks in her eyes as he tries for another kiss, hoping she won't interrupt again. He's just about there when she says, "You should go."

For a moment, his heart feels an aching thump, but he recovers enough to ask his own question. "What?"

"On your boat. You should go. You miss it," she says.

Finnick shakes his head. "No. I'd miss you more." Annie looks at him quizzically. "I would," he states.

"I mean you should take me with you." The look of surprise on his face is overtaken with doubt.

"Are you sure about that? Do you really want to go on the boat? I mean…," he hesitates, unsure of how to state without insult the probability of her having a panic attack on the boat, being surrounded by deep water.

"I want to be on the boat with you, Finnick. I want to feel the peace that you feel out there. I'm not afraid of the water, not like before. I'm more afraid of you… sacrificing all things you like to do because of me," says Annie.

Finnick cups her face and looks at her with absolute seriousness under his now dark, green eyes. "Annie, I would sacrifice anything and everything for you."

She doesn't say anything for a while, looking right back into his determined face. He feels her fingers run through the small hairs on the back of his neck before she pulls his face close her, and her soft lips touch his, effectively making him feel as if he were melting against her yet again. When they stop to take a breath, he meets her gaze.

"I know you would," says Annie. "That's what I'm afraid of."

**x~~~~~~~x**

The next day, he, Annie, and Mags make for the water. Finnick didn't trust himself to be able to keep watch over Annie while the boat was in motion, so he asked Mags to come. It was odd for him to see Mags act like a teenager, especially while the boat was in motion. She sat near the bow, allowing the wind and some spray of water to hit her face. It seems Mags hasn't been on a boat in a while, and missed it.

When they finally make it a short distance away from the beach, he anchors the boat. He notices Annie sitting stiffly in the cockpit and holds out his hand to her. She slowly takes his and allows him to guide her to the bow, all the while squeezing his hand tightly.

"It's okay," he reassures her, squeezing her hand back gently.

Finnick sits down on the bench opposite Mags and pulls Annie down to sit in front of him. When she does, he protectively wraps his arms around her waist and softly kisses her neck a few times before resting his chin on her shoulder as he's now accustomed to doing.

Mags smiles as she moves her way to the back of the boat, elated to be surrounded by the water once again, practically dragging her cane with her.

Finnick and Annie both laugh at the sight of her. "It looks like she's having fun," Finnick notes. Annie nods in accord. "Are you?"

"I think so," says Annie, unsure of her answer.

"You didn't have any-, you seemed okay during the ride," he says.

She turns her head to look at the side of his face. "I see you," says Annie warmly, and she slowly presses her lips to his. Finnick has enough sense to grab onto the edge of the boat to prevent the feeling of falling overtake him as they continue their kiss for a while longer before pulling away. "Do you see me?"

His eyes explore the face of one who truly understands him. He examines the smooth and fair color of her skin and notes the small mole on the side of her face, the natural curve of her eyebrows, and the roundness of her cheeks. He can't help but lightly touch them. His eyes gaze at her lips and his hand moves to where his thumb can smooth over the bottom lip before resting it on the soft curve of her chin. He finally stares into the clarity of her eyes that glow with all shades of green, conveying all parts of her personality that make Annie who she is. She is a whirlwind of grace, beauty, understanding, intellect, courage, strength, and even fear, grief and shame. In those few seconds, he knows that she has allowed him to see past her own wall that she has built up and into what her heart is truly made of. This delights and frightens him at the same time.

_Can I handle all of it?_ He questions himself, but quickly dispels the idea of doing otherwise. S_he needs me. _The argument definitively settled in his mind, he smiles appreciatively at her.

"I do," he says.

"You're not scared?"

He strokes her cheek. "Absolutely petrified."

He gives her a sliver of a moment to let his answer sink in before he presses his lips onto her. They spend the rest of the morning at peace in the calm of the sea.

* * *

><p><strong>END NOTES:<strong> Sorry for the delay in posting. I will still continue attempting to post a new chapter every Thursday, so add me to your alerts to keep updated.

Reviews are welcome!


	18. Chapter 18

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: A few months after the events in Chapter 17, and about a couple of months before the 74**__**th**__** Hunger Games. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick has to make another trip to the Capitol. We see how his relationship with Annie affects his arrangement with Snow. And will Annie be able to cope with it now that they're together? **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, and Turlach Odair*, President Coriolanus Snow, Sapphire Welsh*  
>(* = original characters)<br>**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T, but more for older teens. **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 18: Back to Front<p>

He doesn't make a sound as he steps into the garden room. Despite the beautiful bloom of the roses, the smell in the enclosed area is repulsive. It seems stronger now than the last time he had visited this particular room over three years ago, during Annie's Victory Tour banquet. Everyone Finnick knew then looked the same, but he knows not everyone is the same. He doesn't come into the garden room with as much confidence as he did last time, either.

Finnick is anxious. It's early evening and dark enough outside not to raise suspicion to his presence in the Capitol at this time of year, when there are no Hunger Games, the one time each year in which all victors are welcome to visit the Capitol. Or in some cases, are strongly "requested" to return. He's familiar with the process, though, seeing that he's had to do it for the past three years – blending in by clothing himself according to Capitol fashion and a wig, provided to him on the train rides there. Apparently crimson is the favorable color trend this season. He hates crimson.

Finnick clears his throat, making it known to the President of his presence there. The president has his back to Finnick and is attending to one of his many rose bushes, the ones that have an unnatural blue tint to them. He finds it odd that the president hasn't even turned around yet, leaving his back unguarded, vulnerable. It's not that he really noticed before, but for some reason Finnick notices now. He wonders if it's because he has become more wary of his surroundings as of late, now that Annie's living with him and his brother. Trying to keep Annie safe and letting her know that she is safe has been his top priority since her father died.

He tries to push out thoughts of Annie, but he knows it's a vain effort. They are together and because of that, it's become almost impossible for him to stop thinking about her. Now that they are separated by distance, he's having a hard time concentrating, unaware of the glassy eyes that have turned to face him until they are already staring on him for more than a breath.

"…how very sorry I am of her father's passing, will you?" says Snow. _Focus_, thinks Finnick.

"Yes, Mr. President, of course," answers Finnick, hoping he has said the correct thing.

"Tell me, Mr. Odair, how is she coping?" asks Snow. Finnick's heart pounds hard a few times in his chest.

"She was devastated, as you can imagine," says Finnick, trying to avoid the sarcastic tone his mind is so wanting to convey, and thinking about the loss of his own parents. "Losing one's family can change a person completely, you know."

President Snow stares at Finnick, his face giving no hint of what his thoughts are, except for his eyes, which seem to darken in front of him. Finnick knows that Snow understands his meaning completely, that he is no fool. There's a reason why Snow is president and has been for decades now. It certainly isn't all because of his amiable personality, of which some people are aware of is just for general public. Snow is the master at deception and manipulation. He has perfected it over the course of his time as president.

"Undeniably," says Snow. "However, having you around has certainly helped, I'm sure of it."

If Finnick could, he kick himself in the backside. Obviously, President Snow knows about him and Annie, and has been watching their relationship develop this whole time. It really shouldn't be a surprise to Finnick, though, but somehow he feels more vulnerable than ever, because he's given Snow another weakness in him. Another way to hurt him.

When Finnick and Annie kissed on that day that started their official romantic involvement with each other, he only feared for her. He knew that this relationship could hurt her even more in the long run because of what he does for President Snow, and though she accepted it, he knew she would be hurting inside probably even more than he is right now. She's been through so much pain already. That's all he has thought about since that day, and is still thinking about at that moment.

Because of that, because Finnick's been so focused on Annie and her pain, he has neglected to take into account that Snow might wonder how this relationship could affect Finnick's willingness to do the tasks he assigns him. Finnick now realizes that it already has affected him. His plans to leave as soon as he could later this evening only prove it, but there's no way Snow could know that. Snow can only anticipate it, which apparently he would've been right to do so. Finnick clenches his jaw, trying to keep his composure.

"Yes, sir," he admits as calmly as he can. "She's a good friend and I try to help her."

President Snow's laugh is hollow, detached. It's short, but the sound of it echoes in Finnick's head and the small hairs on the back of his neck stand straight out.

"Mr. Odair, call it what you will, but I do hope you understand, as much as she needs your comfort, you are still obligated to your own duties here," says Snow. Finnick swallows hard. Yes, Snow has been keeping an eye out for his most precious commodity, and Finnick has been negligent to take that into account. "Her father's death was quite unfortunate, and not something I had… fully anticipated. Still, believe me when I say that it would serve you best, as well as her, not to forget our agreement."

_He knows who attacked her_, Finnick says to himself. _But will he say?_ Finnick won't ask him, though. That would be opening up another opportunity for Snow to take advantage of. He's pretty sure that's why Snow is mentioning it at all. Another chance to use Finnick. Even if he did ask Snow, and Snow confirmed his suspicions, what would he do with that information? Finnick knows exactly what he would do. He would take his trident and stab that man in the gut, twisting it until the screams of pain from the attacker were heard no more. That's what he would do. In Finnick's mind, someone like that deserved a death worse than those received by any tribute, and he's seen some horrifying deaths in the Games before.

"I understand, Mr. President. I wasn't planning on neglecting my duties," says Finnick with an air of certainty.

"I should hope not. Believe me when I say that even though I allowed you to take on extra assignments in place of your friend, it could have been… worse."

Finnick takes a moment before answering, noting the hissing sound at the end of that last word. A shiver runs down his spine, a feeling he hopes to forget once he's out the doors. Whatever Snow meant by his statement doesn't matter. He just has to agree with him.

"I believe you," says Finnick.

Snow looks at him, observing his movements, his facial expression to see if he can detect any sign of misgiving on Finnick's part. Finnick is finally able to steel himself during the observation, because he, too, has been able to master the art of deception. Snow takes a step forward and hands him a blue rose.

"Sapphire Welsh wishes to speak to you. Make sure you give her your full attention. She is quite… important to me," says Snow. Finnick is not sure, but the way Snow says Sapphire's name sounds as if he had bit into something rather unpleasant.

"Of course," says Finnick and steps back to leave. _A repeat client. That's a first._

"Mr. Odair, one more thing," says the president, his back again turned to Finnick and now attending to a white rose bush. "You are welcome to take the late morning train at 11am." Finnick's heart drops, knowing that Snow is ordering him not to leave any earlier.

**x~~~~~~~x**

"Is that what he said?" asks the blue-skinned woman. He nods, his back leaning against the headboard of the king-size bed. She scoffs. "One thing you should know, my dear boy, is that the president is very attached to you. I mean, not you personally, but you all." Sapphire is talking about all of them that "work" for Snow, a handful of the most attractive victors.

"He knows that looks are very important to the people of Panem, and he feels threatened by that. You could be a threat to his presidency if people were more swayed by you than by him, you see. He definitely knows what he's doing," Sapphire explains.

Finnick had not really taken into account that his looks, his handsome features that every woman drools over, could be influential in a way that could unseat Snow. Keep those that people like under his control, and the people will continue to follow him. It isn't entirely improbable, he supposed. But it never occurred to him that that had anything to do with it. It also doesn't help that it is coming from a Capitol socialite, a veritable schemer herself.

Sapphire Welsh is drunk, but not too drunk to be incoherent. She really does want to speak to him, to divulge in secrets that she knows about that she can't really tell to anyone else, but only until after he had given her the physical attention she wanted first.

She encourages him to drink with her, handing him a glass halfway filled with an orange concoction. He doesn't like alcohol, but he downs the drink in one gulp to humor her. He's relieved when she doesn't offer him another.

Sapphire rambles on about some of the well known dignitaries of Panem, although he doesn't really know many of them, but is able to keep a log of their names to memory. She then starts talking about the president's latest deceptions. Finnick always listens intently when one of his assignments divulges more details about Snow's devious acts. Sapphire seems to know more than she should for a mere socialite.

At the end of Sapphire's declaration, and after having downed two more glasses of alcohol, she revealed her cousin had been poisoned, a familiar term for Finnick when it comes to Snow's way of dealing with individuals he needs to be rid of. It had been reported, though, that Sapphire's cousin had gotten suddenly sick and had succumbed to his illness. For some reason, Sapphire didn't believe that and discovered Snow's involvement, but she declined to give Finnick anymore details about what exactly it was that she found out. Needless to say, it didn't matter. He believed her. There was no reason for her to lie to him.

"But he knows that you know," Finnick says, wanting confirmation.

"He does," drawls Sapphire. "Why else do you think you're here with me, dear? You're the payoff."

"Aren't you afraid he would kill you, too, though?" he asks, trying to ignore the her nonchalant way of regarding him as a token of sorts.

Sapphire laughs lazily. She crawls over to him on the bed seductively and traces the outline of his lips with her fingers, which Finnick halfheartedly smirks about while inwardly cringing at her touch. "I would be, if I had nothing on him, my beautiful boy." She looks at his eyes through her drunken ones, taking a moment to stare into them, but frowns and moves her fingers away. She sighs.

"You were better at this before," says Sapphire, a tone of disappointment in her statement. With that, she lies down on the bed and rolls on her side, her back to him, still holding her empty glass.

"Be careful, Finnick," she continues, "We all have our parts to play, and if you don't play it right, then you could get hurt."

It only takes a couple more minutes before Finnick hears her snoring. It's well past 5am and he's tired, but he refuses to sleep. With so many thoughts going on in his head, it's impossible for him to sleep anyway. It didn't help that Sapphire noticed his reluctance, or really, his disinterest, in responding to her last alluring moves. He didn't even try to pretend that he wanted her at all.

Finnick goes through the new information he has just collected from Sapphire. He wonders if President Snow was responsible for Annie's father's death as well. But he remembers what Snow had said to him: _"Her father's death was quite unfortunate, and not something I had… fully anticipated." _Maybe Snow didn't plan it, but he doesn't care to do anything about it. _After all, why should he care? There has to be a purpose, and Annie's father's death provided no advantage to Snow,_ thought Finnick. Or maybe it was her death they were trying to achieve, to prevent Finnick from becoming attached to someone. Snow probably would've been perfectly fine with Annie being dead.

Suddenly, he feels like he could explode from the heat rushing in his head and he starts pacing the room, trying to figure out what to do in the meantime when all he wants to do now is to get home, get back to District 4 and have Annie in his arms again. He wants to make sure she is safe. He had left her with Turlach and Mags. But he will never feel she's safe enough with just them there. He thinks about leaving now, just getting on a train and going home. The problem is that Snow had specifically hinted at him leaving at 11am, no earlier. He doesn't understand the reasoning for it.

The problem is, Snow doesn't have to give Finnick a reason. He just has to prove he still has control over him. And that if Finnick were to ever decide to defy the president, something may happen that could destroy Finnick. If Finnick tries to leave now, it could be disastrous for him, or Annie, or anyone in District 4.

_What if it's another test?_ Finnick thinks, to see if he would still do as he's told, no matter what. If it is a test, he will need to stay put to convince Snow that Finnick is still complying.

He painstakingly makes the decision to stay, to not give any reason for Snow to doubt his ability to do his job, regardless of his relationship with Annie. But he does make a vow to himself that if anything were to happen to Annie during his time apart from her, he will hold President Snow directly responsible and take revenge on him however he can.

At 9am, he takes a shower, spending as long as possible under the water, washing and cleansing away every inch of himself of Sapphire's scent and anything else that would reek of the smell of the Capitol, including President Snow. When 10am finally hits, he packs up what items he has into his bag and heads toward the door. He takes a look around the room one last time to make sure he hasn't left anything of his in there and notices Sapphire's sleeping form on the bed, her hand still wrapped around the glass. She has barely moved since she fell asleep. He takes the glass out of her hand and puts it on the small bar counter before he quietly slips out the door, making his way toward the train station.

By the time he gets to the train station, it's 10:30am and a conductor directs him to one of the cars of the train. Of course he is expected. He knows it's Snow's doing, because once he enters and looks into the elegantly decorated car, he can see a bouquet of the blue roses wrapped neatly and formally with a small envelope attached with Annie's name on it. Inside of the envelope is a card:

_My sincerest sympathies on your loss. – President C. Snow_

Finnick can barely control his anger as he throws the bouquet across the room, hitting the chandelier and making it swing, as well as knocking over some glasses in its path to the wall on the other side. He has no intention of handing those roses to her. Even without the "sincere" message from Snow, she would hate it. It might even set off a new mass of nightmares for his damaged girlfriend. Blue roses don't grow naturally, and Annie isn't one for anything that the Capitol has to offer. No, he would give her nothing from the Capitol.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick practically runs from the station to the village in record time. His heart is racing and not just from the sprint. A part of him is incredibly impatient to be with Annie again, but another part of him is utterly terrified of what state he is going to find her in. The last time they were apart, she had lost her father, was physically abused, and emotionally wrecked yet again. He was barely able to keep himself from pulling his own hair out during the train ride back thinking about it. He had also taken another shower during the train ride just to be sure he had no trace of those roses on him, and changed into his own clothes, willingly leaving his disguise in the car.

When he opens the door to his house, Mags is the first person he sees. She's sitting at the kitchen table, drinking hot liquid from a mug, seemingly waiting for him. She automatically points back outside in the direction of where the beach is while mumbling the word itself. He takes Mags' nonchalant attitude as a good sign and he exhales like he hadn't let out a breath since he left for the Capitol. Finnick smiles at her in a show of thanks, dropping his stuff near the entrance of the house and makes his way to the beach.

He hears crash of the waves before he sees it. The tides are slightly larger than usual today, and he's suddenly nervous that Annie is somewhere curled up in a fetal position in the sand, but when he scans the beach, she's standing there facing the water. Her hair is being blown sideways, but she doesn't bother doing anything about it. He doesn't even realize his brother is standing not ten feet away from her, keeping her company, keeping her safe in his absence, and he is briefly envious of the fact that Turlach got to spend time with her while he was forced to spend time with a drunken, blue-skinned middle-aged Capitol woman. He knows it's stupid to feel any kind of jealousy towards his brother, especially when it comes to Annie, but now he cannot help himself to envy anyone that is able to be in her presence when he can't. Still, it's better that Turlach is with her there than her being by herself, or worse yet, being with someone he doesn't trust.

Turlach notices first, and slowly walks toward Annie, and says something to her. Annie turns around to face Finnick. From where he stands, her expression seems guarded. As he continues to walk towards her, he passes by Turlach with a nod of thanks to him that he promptly forgets about as soon as Turlach leaves to give his brother some privacy with Annie. When he finally stands within a breath in front of her, the expression on her face changes, her eyes lighten with the hues of the sunset. She smiles and he touches her cheek, gently grazing it with his knuckles. She leans into his touch more, her hair still being blown sideways, and he moves away the strands that cross her face.

"Hi," he says.

Her fingers go up to his face, feeling the curve of his cheekbone, the point of his chin, the texture of his eyebrows down to the tip of his nose, before finally brushing over his lips. He feels his whole body electrify with every stroke of her fingers.

"Finnick," she smiles as she says his name. Then she wraps her arms around his waist tightly, her face pressed solidly against his chest. He cradles her head in one hand while his other warms her back.

After holding each other for what felt like only a mere second to him but was surely much longer than that, Finnick releases her to have them sit on the sand and watch the last remaining minutes of sunlight change the sky to different hues of red, orange, pink, and yellow. As she sits in front of him, with his legs on either side of her, he wraps his arms around her and gently presses the side of his head against hers, his chin on her shoulder. She fits her back comfortably into the curve of his chest, as if she were always meant to fit there.

They've been together for a few months now, but it still amazes Finnick how much she accepts him, as if he had never done any wrong, when in all honestly, he's done plenty wrong. Anyone who knew the truth would probably argue that he was forced into situations that he really had no control over or for the sake of keeping the people that he cared about alive, but still, he feels even more guilty and ashamed about it now that he's with Annie, and he knows he may never be able to shake those feelings away.

"I'm sorry," says Finnick. Annie tilts her face a bit to look at him through the corner of her eye, acknowledging his words.

"Why?"

"For whatever might've happened to you while I was away. For any nightmares you might've had last night. Any tears you might've shed."

Annie doesn't say anything for a few long minutes, then as the final edge of the sun is just about to disappear into the horizon, Annie turns her body halfway around to face him. She stares straight into his eyes and he can't quite make out what she's thinking.

"If I told you that I cried last night because of you, would you be upset?" asks Annie. He feels his heart beat painfully in his chest.

"Did you?"

Annie nods, and Finnick feels queasiness in his stomach as well. Again, the idea that they could be together feels like a sick joke to him, and he wonders how on earth he let it happen.

"Don't," says Annie, her eyes glisten in the remaining orange-colored light of the sky.

"What?"

"You don't understand, do you?" asks Annie. Finnick tries to figure out what she means, but all he can think about is the idea that these assignments are going to destroy her heart and it's going to be completely his fault this time.

"I hurt you," says Finnick, feeling the pain of his own words. Annie shakes her head.

"Finnick, no," says Annie. She scowls for a brief second before she pushes herself up and walks away, her back to him. She moves closer to the water. Finnick is so confused he doesn't even have time to analyze what she means before he gets up to follow her, disregarding the nausea in his stomach or the pain in his heart.

Annie tries to walk faster and closer to the water, but each step she takes feel heavier and slower than the last, so much so that she stops altogether. She clamps her hands over her ears while looking straight into the blue horizon. Finnick's hands move slowly and carefully around her arms as stands in front of her and tries to calm her. He can see her lips move, but she can barely be heard above the sounds of the waves crashing, so he moves his head closer to her until her lips are skimming his edge of his ear.

"Stop it," she says. He tries pull away from her so he can look at her face to comprehend her meaning, but her hands are now on him, too, gripping his arms hard to keep him where he is. She whispers again, but this time, he's able to hear every word that she utters. "Stop blaming yourself. It's not your fault. It's _not_ _your_ _fault_. I love you, and it hurts, but it will hurt me more if you keep thinking it's your fault when it's not."

Finnick is lost in a moment where time stands still. He hears the words echo in his mind. He feels her warm breath tickle against the whorl of his ear. He sees the waves of the water suspended in motion. He doesn't dare breathe. The words haunt him, punch him, stab him, pull him, kiss him, hug him. He's such a mixed bag of emotions and it's all there in that one point. A lifetime later, he finally feels her small, delicate fingers release their grip on him and he's staring into her eyes. There are no tears there, but there is pain, there is pleading, and yes, there is love. And he knows that it's real and it's here and it's all for him.

"You love me?" he asks. The look on Annie's face is a mix of annoyance and elation, for which neither can Finnick see.

"Didn't you hear anything else I said?"

"It's not my fault…and you love me," says Finnick, now stating it as more of a fact than a question. She takes a brief second to blush before looking up at him again.

"I. Love. You. Finnick Odair." She says it carefully and concisely, with a gentle smile and eyes that glow in the still fading sunlight. No tide strong enough can erase the sound of those words in his head now. He closes his eyes, allowing it to soak in, letting it flow through every part of his body as if it were giving him a jolt of energy he didn't realize he needed. But he did need it. And he wants more of it.

"I don't know if I could ever say it as wonderfully as you've said it to me," admits Finnick.

"And you love me." says Annie. Finnick suddenly realizes that he hasn't really responded back properly. He would beat himself over the head with a paddle if he had one. Then he questions whether it would even sound sincere. Or that it won't _be_ sincere. He has said those words plenty times to women before, but nowhere near anything feeling remotely genuine, and always with a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. But this is Annie Cresta. A girl from District 4. A victor. A victim. He knows her. He does love her. So, he nods his head and cups her face in his hands.

"I do love you, Annie Cresta." For the first time, the words flow easily out of his mouth with a refreshing sweetness to her name, the kind of sweetness found on the freshest and tastiest honeydew. He's surprised at how pleasant it sounds even for him, that he wants to say it again.

"I love you."

* * *

><p><strong>END NOTES:<strong> If you wanted this to be the end of the story, I'm sorry but I have to disappoint you. There's still a bit more to go, as I have to get these two through a couple more Hunger Games…

Please, don't be shy. I'd love to hear what you have to say about it!


	19. Chapter 19

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: A couple of months after the previous chapter; Reaping day for the 74**__**th**__** Hunger Games **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: The events for the 74**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games have started and Finnick will be going back to the Capitol yet again. What does this mean for Annie? **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, and Turlach Odair*, Katniss Everdeen, Primrose Everdeen, Garcen*, Caesar Flickerman, Claudius Templesmith  
>(* = original characters)<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T. **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 19: The Volunteer<p>

Annie wakes up gasping for air. She dreamed she was drowning and couldn't swim up to the surface. Something was holding her back, keeping her in place, but she couldn't see what it was, and the surface was so close, so close in fact that her hands were waving freely above the surface. It was terrifying. She doesn't know how long she had been having that nightmare, but it must have been a while because her pillow is fairly damp from perspiration. It also could be because the night is warm. Either way, she won't be able to go back to sleep just yet.

She hears him. She knows he's just outside her slightly open door. He always shows up after every nightmare, keeping watch over her, silently waiting to see if she'll call to him or scream out in terror and needing to be woken up. Always trying to keep her safe. But some things she knows he can't keep her safe from. Her nightmares are one of them, although she doesn't have as many nightmares as she used to, not like before, when she was living in her own home. With her father.

She was sure she was safe then. She hoped she was. Then she was attacked, and her father died protecting her, and she realized she could never be truly safe from him. From her attacker, her abuser. From Garcen.

Annie would not reveal her attacker for the simple reason that, as much as Finnick wanted to protect her, she wanted to protect him. She couldn't afford to have Finnick risk his life just to take revenge on Garcen for what he had done to Annie. To Annie, the damage had already been done years before she met Finnick. When she was still living in the community home, during Pool Day on Sundays. There is nothing that Finnick would be able to do to fix the damage that had been done, so revenge was pointless to her. And although Garcen did try again before her father came in to stop him, she thinks that he will not try it again. It would be careless of him to do so while she's living with Finnick and Turlach now. Completely insane, really, for him to try. He would have to be out of his senses, and she hopes that not even drunkenness can get him to that state.

It then dawns on her. She has a brief vivid image in her head about her nightmare. She was drowning in water not in the ocean, but in the pool. She was back in the community home in her dream. She was being kept under by Garcen. But it was definitely a dream. It had never really happened to her. She never almost drowned or was never being held under by that sadistic peacekeeper. Still, it loomed over her, the image of him and his slimy hands on her. She shivers just thinking about the loathsome man.

She hears herself call out to Finnick and it's odd to hear how she sounds. She didn't even call very loudly, but he's there all the same. His hands move gently over hers, which she now notices are covering her ears. Annie moves them away from her head and they find their way into Finnick's hands, sweat and all. Finnick doesn't say anything and doesn't pry them away. He only lets go after a few seconds to cup her cheek with one hand and wipe away the damp strands of hair that have stuck to her face with the other hand.

"What was it?" he asks her.

"Drowning," Annie croaks. She doesn't want to give details and he doesn't ask. Sometimes he knows when not to say anything at all. This is one of those moments.

"It's still too early. Try to go back to sleep," suggests Finnick.

"Will you stay for a while?" asks Annie. It's not an invitation for anything other than comfort and rest. They know each other well enough to understand the boundaries that they've placed upon themselves, each for their own reasons. He's done it plenty times before. He never says no, and he doesn't now. He has her move over so he can lie down on the bed with her. He's near the edge of the bed so he can keep one foot on the floor, and even though it's warm, she sidles up to him and lays her head on his shoulder.

She does try to sleep, but after an hour, she can't seem to keep her mind from racing. She knows Finnick is still awake, too, because his fingers have not stopped moving up and down her arm, the one that she has lazily draped over his chest. He won't sleep unless she does first. She wonders how he can tell if she's asleep or not. She thinks there must be something that she does that alerts him to her consciousness. Or her unconsciousness.

In a few hours, they'll have to get ready. It seems to have come faster this year, and of course, her dreams have become more frequent and unnerving because of it. Her fear, though, is no longer about having her name picked. No, at least she knows she will never have to participate in another Games again. But still, the memories of hers and previous Hunger Games continue to threaten her sanity. Last year was the worst case of it. She was separated from Finnick, and her father was killed, and she almost lost her own life. If it wasn't Garcen that was going to kill her, it might certainly have been under her own doing, if she had to deal with her father's death on her own. Last year was too much to bear. Finnick didn't even know and couldn't help. Mags and Turlach, for whom she is thankful for every day, were there, but that was just barely enough. They kept her going, only by reminding her that Finnick would return. But the words became more and more meaningless as the days turned into weeks.

She doesn't want to go through that again. She has no father now. But who else would get hurt? She knows she might. If she stays behind, she could definitely die if Garcen were to return as drunk as he was before. The things he said to her that night still echo in her head. _"He's not coming back. I had you first. You're mine. Tell anyone about this, he dies. I'll make you watch, too."_ She still remembers the putrid smell of his alcohol-laced breath as he spit out those words to her. She remembers the pain of his grip on her neck and arms, and the beating she took when she tried to help her father. It was a miracle she didn't suffer any broken bones, really. She shakes her head, realizing she doesn't want to go through that again. She can't go through that again.

She hears Finnick's voice trying to calm her again. She didn't even realize she had said anything to alert him to her distress. She's not sure if she wants to open her eyes, but his voice is pleading for her to. When she does, she lets out a breath in relief. He's looking straight at her, always full of concern during these dark moments in her life. His hands feel cool on her heated face. Part of her wants to pull away from him, still reeling from the effects of remembering Garcen's cruel hands on her, but she pushes away that thought and wraps her arms around Finnick's neck, holding him tight.

"I can't stay here while you're there," says Annie. "I need to be where you are."

He doesn't say anything at first, but his hold on her becomes more firm, more sure. "I know," says Finnick. That's all he can say. She knows it will be as hard for him as it will be for her. The last time she went to the Capitol, it was a complete disaster. And this time might not be any better, especially if Finnick can't spend time with her, but at least they'll be in the same city. And she'll be away from Garcen.

"I love you, Annie." Annie chokes back tears. He says it so many times, but every time is still like the first. Sometimes better. This is one of those better times. The words are like a shield around them, impenetrable against the likes of Garcen. Or Pool Day on Sundays. Or The Hunger Games. They give her strength and hope for a better life.

"I love you, Finnick. I love you. I love you. I love you." It's like a chant that she whispers in his ear to keep the shield in place. She hopes that if she says it enough times, he will feel the power behind it and it will be true for him, too. All is silent between them after that, and the only thing that can be heard are the sounds of their breathing. She lays back down again, her head resting on Finnick's shoulder, and is able to go to sleep, at least for the couple of hours before daybreak.

**x~~~~~~~x**

That morning, they get ready to depart for the Capitol once again. Finnick glances into her room, as both their bedroom doors are open. She is pacing back and forth and he wonders if she has forgotten something, then he hears her mumbling something about next year and the year after, but doesn't pay it too much attention. He tells himself to get ready first before going over there to help her out, to give her time. He knows Annie doesn't like to be fussed over when she's capable and alert. _She'll be fine_, he thinks to himself. _Just a few weeks in the Capitol, she won't need to talk to anyone, really. Then they can come back home and that'll be that. And we won't need to worry about it anymore…until…_

That's when it hits Finnick like a slap in the face. Annie's mumbling about future years, it's all about the Games, and her decision not only to attend this year's Games, but all the years after. Just so she can be where he is. The nausea rises in his stomach again and they hadn't even eaten breakfast yet. There's no way he could tell her to stay here while he's away. Both of them understand that to separate for that extended amount of time would not be safe for her anymore.

He only wishes he could get Annie to actually tell him who killed her father, and almost killed her. But he knows she won't. Even after her worst nightmares of that event, most of which had occurred immediately after she first moved in with them almost a year ago, she had yet to even mention a name at all. And she would stop Finnick if he even tried to coerce her into telling him by covering her ears. It certainly changed the mood in the household when he tried and he hated to see her upset when she didn't have to be. So he stopped trying.

He's not even sure if it's Garcen anymore, because he's barely even seen the head peacekeeper this whole time since then, and when he does see him, Garcen barely acknowledges him. Finnick would like to think it's because Garcen is intimidated by him, but he knows better than to let that thought dominate. The idea of Garcen feeling guilty enough to avoid him or Annie or anyone in the Victor's Village is laughable. But so far nothing else has happened to Annie since and so he let it go. But he's not sure how much longer he'll be able to do that now that Annie will be going back to the Capitol with him.

He wasn't much help to her last time she was there, and he won't be again. He's just going to have to make sure that she'll be safe in the hotel room by herself. _No one should harass her there. There's no rules stating that she needs to be out and about in the open with everyone, watching the Games on one of the many public screens. She'll have her own screen in her room, which will be on the whole time anyway. She will have to endure watching, or at least hearing, it by herself. And I'll be there when I can. _Finnick jerks his head in agreement to his thoughts.

As soon as he finishes packing, he heads over to her room. She has already closed her bag and is still mumbling until he holds her hand and pulls her to him. She stops speaking, but her eyes are still looking elsewhere, distant. He can sense her mood, somewhere between _sound_ and _unsound_. He's afraid to look at her for some reason and instead holds her head to his chest. Her arms stay unmoving on her sides. He understands why, even though she may not be able to understand or comprehend it herself. So, he says it instead, trying to bring her back to him with his voice, even though it will be unpleasant, albeit true.

"It won't be easy. I won't be around much. I wish things were so much more different, but if I don't…comply…" he pauses, unable to finish.

"-then people get hurt," Annie says, completing his sentence.

"Annie, you understand more than you should," Finnick whispers, then says, "I can't let it happen again."

He feels the tension in her pass through to him, sharing with him her unease. He needs to tell her more, as much as it hurts, because he needs to know that she understands completely why he will act the way he will when they get to the Capitol. He needs her to know what she's in for. Most of all, he needs to know that she'll still be there for him after it's all done. If not, he's not sure if he'll be able to ever forgive himself for ever getting himself involved with Annie Cresta.

"We can't be close. Not in front of anyone there. But you'll be safer there than you will be here. Understand?" Annie still doesn't move. Her arms are still limp on either side of her, but she does repeat one word back.

"Safer."

Finnick tightens his lips together. It's not _safe_ for anyone. It's never safe, and it never has been, but victors know that already – that word is a lie. To be completely safe is inconceivable for them. Even if things were to change, if there were no more Hunger Games and people were free to go about their lives as they wished, he doesn't know if they would ever feel _safe_ from anything or anyone ever. Their lives have been through too much horror to fully believe in that. At least, that's what he feels. But "safer," that's all her can offer her, and he just hopes it's enough.

He finally has the courage to pull back and nudge her to look at him. He wants to see her eyes, to bring her back to him, like he does so often right before in the days before the reaping and the Games. He wants to find the beauty in the color of hues of green, and the grace in the softness of her smile, just one more time before they have to leave for the Capitol. He wants her to see him, for her to look deep into his soul and find the thing he wants to give her.

"You have my heart, you know. No one can take that from you."

There. He sees it in her eyes and in her smile now. Beauty and grace together, within her. He presses his lips to hers and he feels her hands on him now, and it feels like she's melting him with her touch and jolting him awake at the same time. He won't be able to feel like this again for weeks, so he holds her tighter. His hands move up against her back and his fingers get tangled in the dark strands of her wonderfully silky hair as he breathes in her scent and tastes her lips. He wants to keep this moment with him for these next few weeks.

**x~~~~~~~x**

After the reaping, they make their way to the train. Finnick should not have been surprised that Mags was coming along for the ride. Finnick didn't ask her to come, but she had her bags packed and had Turlach carry it for her as they made their way from the Victor's Village to the town square for the reaping and then to the trains.

"Mags, what're you doing?" Finnick asks her. She scowls before telling him in her own way that he's not Annie's only friend. Luckily, he knows better than to take any offense to his 80-something year old former mentor and surrogate mother. She's still amazingly strong despite her age and physical disability. He especially feels her strength when she smacks him every once in a while with her cane, something that she's been using lately as a weapon instead of a crutch, if only just to get Finnick's or Turlach's attention.

Finnick remembers when Turlach was so wary of Mags after their parents died. It took him a while get used to her coming around, but now, he can tell that Turlach has accepted her as close to a member of the family as one can be without actually being related. Turlach has done the same with Annie, and Finnick has been thankful for that, especially since Annie has no one else but them to connect with. Even though Turlach never had to deal with being in the arena like the rest of them, Finnick thinks that maybe it's a good thing. Turlach may just be the glue to keep them connected to the rest of the town, to the rest of the people in the district. To help remind them why they need to continue to try to survive - to give hope to the rest of the people.

When they get to the train, Finnick turns around to speak to his brother one more time. Turlach looks at him, and Finnick sees something odd in the way his older brother is looking at him.

"What?" he asks Turlach. Turlach opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it, hesitating. "What is it?"

Again, the hesitation is there, but after a second, Turlach says, "Nothing. Forget it. I'll hold down the fort. You… take care of them. And yourself."

Finnick stares at him, trying to see if Turlach will say more, but Turlach just smiles. It's the kind of smile that Finnick is familiar with. A kind of smile that breeds confidence – the false kind. He's familiar with it because he shows that smile often when he's at the Capitol.

Finnick wants to call him out on it and ask him what's really bothering him, but just as he's about to, Mags taps him on his back, just below his shoulder blade, as if she were trying to reach his shoulder but could only go up to that point. He turns around and Mags tilts her head towards the entryway of the train car they're to go into, indicating it's time to get on.

Mags pushes Finnick out of the way so she can move closer to Turlach and, in a rare display of affection, pulls him by his shirt so he's forced to bend down to her level and she gives him a hug. Not a full hug with both arms, but a one-arm hug. She pecks him on the cheek and it's over before he can even respond.

Turlach blinks once, then twice, and is suddenly greeted by another hug from someone else, this time with both arms. Annie holds onto him much longer than Mags.

"I'm sorry I'm not strong enough to stay here with you. You've done so much for me," she whispers in his ear. Finnick looks at Turlach and can see the genuine emotion in Turlach's eyes. Turlach blinks a few more times, and Finnick smiles. Finnick makes a silent wish for more moments like this, not the leaving, but the closeness.

"No, no," says Turlach, still wrapped in Annie's hug. "You are stronger than you realize, I'm just here to help. And I'll be here for you when you get back," he adds, looking back at Finnick knowingly. Finnick realizes that maybe that last part was meant for him, too.

**x~~~~~~~x**

During the train ride, Finnick can't seem to stop thinking about that moment at the station with Mags and Annie and Turlach. That's the closest he's ever felt to all of them at one time. A smile creeps up on his face. He looks down at his beautiful girl laying beside him, who's head has shifted halfway off his arm and onto the pillow. He never thought of her as beautiful in a way that the Capitol sees beauty, but she is truly beautiful in his eyes and he doesn't care if no one else sees her that way.

She is sleeping now and she looks strangely at peace, considering where they're heading and that they won't be able to spend much time together, if any, while there. He moves himself carefully off the bed, trying not to disturb her, but she moves just a bit. Her eyes are still closed though, so he bends down to kiss her lightly on her temple. "I'll be right back," he whispers. He doesn't know if she can actually hear him, but it makes him feel better just saying it anyway.

As he makes his way down to the dining car for something to drink, he hears the familiar sound of a television in one of the other rooms. As he passes by the room, Mags is watching intently at what's going on, and pauses at the doorway to find out what's so interesting that she doesn't even notice his presence there. He sees the all too common face of Caesar Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith commenting on something that had just happened at a particular reaping.

"…volunteer from District 12. What do you make of that, Claudius?" asks Caesar.

"Has there ever been a volunteer from District 12?"

"I don't believe so. Let's have a look at that scene again. I mean, this is history in the making for these outlying districts, wouldn't you say?"

Claudius nods in agreement as they begin to replay what happened in District 12.

Finnick watches as he sees a little blonde girl being called up to the stage. He's seen many little girls called up to the stage before, all of them just as scared as this one is. Then, as she's almost to the front, there's movement in the crowd and another girl with dark hair who seems to be a few years older, calls out to the little girl, who Finnick thinks he hears call the little girl "Prim." The older girl shrieks out her insistence to replace Prim. They are sisters, Finnick realizes. Only siblings are allowed to volunteer for someone else. Prim tries in her own feeble way to stop her sister from volunteering, but she is now being carried off by one of the boys. Finnick wonders briefly if maybe that is their brother. But that thought takes a backseat as he continues watching the volunteer make her way up to the stage. He's struck by the way she's attempting to handle herself, keeping a stoic, emotionless, face in light of what she has just done. She has just volunteered her life for her sister's. Her name. Katniss Everdeen.

Then something odd happens in the crowd. One by one each person in District 12 put their three middle fingers of one hand against their lips and raise it up in Katniss' direction. It's not something he's ever seen before. Is it a salute? An insult? A code? Even Caesar and Claudius don't know what to make of it.

Then a familiar face comes up on the screen and Haymitch is congratulating Katniss, and then yelling angrily at the cameras. "Is he trying to get himself killed?" asks Finnick rhetorically. He knows that talk like that, what Haymitch said – _"More than you!"_ – could get him in serious trouble. But it's also probably vague enough to where it can be misinterpreted as something he's yelling to District 12. Even the commentators shrug it off, knowing Haymitch's constant inebriated state. He doesn't bother to watch anymore and continues down the corridor.

As he resumes his way to the dining car, he replays the scene in his mind, but instead of visualizing Katniss and Prim, he visualizes Turlach and himself. For the first time in a while, his thoughts go years back to when he was reaped. He wonders now, if that would've been how it would have played out if Turlach had volunteered for him. Would he have yelled at Turlach and tried to prevent him from going? Yes, he's almost certain he would have tried to keep Turlach at bay. No one probably would've pulled him back, either. Sometimes he wonders if he really did resent Turlach for not volunteering in his stead for the Games. Now, after watching what had just happened in District 12, he knows. Regardless of what has happened since, their parents getting killed, him being pulled in as a slave to Snow's bidding, he knows for certain what he could only guess at before, that he would not have wanted Turlach to volunteer.

He goes back to the event at the station earlier. After Annie had hugged Turlach, he felt the obliged to do the same with his older brother. They had not hugged since before their parents died and it felt awkward at first, but a second later, they patted each other firmly on the back, and it felt nice to be able to do that. When they pulled away and stepped back, Turlach had that look on his face again, like he wanted to tell Finnick something more. But it was too late and they had to get on the train. _I'll be here for you when you get back. _

Whatever it is will now have to wait until they return. He's glad, though. Glad that he has a brother to return to. He thinks about the little blond girl, Prim. That could've been him. Wondering, worrying, waiting to see if he'd still have a brother after the Games, or if he'd be taken away forever. He feels sorry for Prim. She will now have to watch as her sister, who sacrificed herself for her, fights for her life in the Hunger Games. And of course he feels for Katniss, too, the volunteer from District 12. He's not one for cheering on any specific tribute, although he always hopes the best for the ones in his own district, naturally, but he does wonder about this one. He wonders how long she'll last, because there's not much hope for the District 12 tributes, even if she is a volunteer. He might end up hating Haymitch for good if he doesn't do more this time around.

_Katniss deserves more_, Finnick says to himself.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes:<strong>  
><em>I welcome constructive criticism and comments. <em>


	20. Chapter 20

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place during the 74**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick, Annie, and Mags return to the Capitol for the Hunger Games. Annie has to deal with not having Finnick by her side while he goes on assignments. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Katniss Everdeen, Haymitch Abernathy, Johanna Mason**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T, but more for older teens. **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 20: Finding Strength<p>

It was strange to her. The fear of coming back to the Capitol. It hit her weeks before and didn't let go until she stepped off the train at the Capitol station – the nightmares, the nausea, the unawareness of what was real and what wasn't. She thought it would only get worse at that point. She thought she wouldn't be able to keep herself from falling into a fit of hysterics, and crumpling up and dying, to be separated forever by the man she loved, and who loved her. But it didn't happen that way. It baffled her as much as it baffled Mags and Finnick, at least it did from the look on their faces at the time. Finnick tried to suppress his smile, but all his "fans" were there to greet him as he stepped off the train, so it was easy for him to show his admiration of her with a genuine smile that many thought he was giving to them.

It's not that Annie didn't have her moments, though. She, Mags, and Finnick have been there for some days now and she's screamed herself awake every night, sometimes several times in a night, and the Games haven't even started yet. She hasn't had any daymares yet, but she's sure they will happen once the Games start, unless she can avoid watching them somehow, but considering there's a television screen in every room, that makes it a little hard.

She's amazed those visions haven't started already, especially when they show highlights from previous games. But lately, the Hunger Games' commentators have been talking about the odds of each tribute instead, now that the tributes are in training. Still, she is surprised at herself for being able to maintain some kind of rational thinking. Or at least, that's how she feels.

_Who knows?_ She wonders. _Maybe I think I'm being rational when I'm actually not. Maybe I'm not really here sitting in front of the TV with Mags next to me. Maybe that girl's dress actually did burn her and she's dying on the stage floor while Caesar is smiling away. Maybe I didn't just throw something at the TV. Maybe, maybe, maybe…_

Annie laughs.

"Odds are not in our favor," she mumbles.

Mags pulls her along to her room. The evening is getting late and there's nothing more to be seen on the television anyway that hasn't already been aired earlier. Annie does feel tired, but somehow she knows she will not be able to get much sleep. She hasn't seen Finnick since he left the first morning after their arrival. She knows she won't be seeing him much, but it still doesn't mean she can't feel the hurt of missing him, and knowing he's with other people. Other women. The pain in her chest pierces deeper with each thought until her mind slowly ebbs away into slumber.

In the early morning hours, after another night of despairing visions of already-dead people and deformed animals attack her and Mags and Turlach and Finnick, she feels the warmth of a hand touch her gently on the arm, then fingers stroke up and down, caressing her. It feels so nice. Her eyes are still closed and she allows herself to feel the sensation of the touch. So warm.

But her nightmare is still lingering in her restless mind and is confusing her. It's Finnick, but for some reason she doesn't open her eyes. Her fear begins to overwhelm her. It just feels all too familiar…

It happened before, what seemed like ages ago, but it was only just last year, during the last Hunger Games. She was being woken up from yet another restless sleep and she was missing Finnick terribly. She thought she felt his fingers trace up and down her arm, but something about it felt different. She opened her eyes, but it was still dark out so she couldn't see his face, let alone determine anything else. His breathing sounded familiar, but there was something very different about it. The figure's breathing was heavier, raspier.

"Finnick?" she said questioningly, but even as the words came out of her mouth, she knew it wasn't him. He didn't respond but she felt this touch before, and as her senses came back to her, she knew then why she had felt it before and why the figure had not said anything. It wasn't Finnick there, touching her, caressing her, breathing in her scent. Nor was it her father. It was _him_…

Annie freezes all movement, thinking back to that night when she was attacked. The only move she is able to make is squeezing her eyes shut even tighter than before, wishing, hoping that it's not him. That it's not Garcen. She can't think, she can't breathe. She tenses up into one hard ball of skin, gooseflesh covering every part of her, with every small hair all over standing straight up. Her mouth finally moves, a whimper at first, but as words come out, they can barely be heard until she repeats them over and over again. _It's not real. It's not real. It's not real. Please go away. Stop. Please. Stop._

She cannot even determine whether she said those words aloud or in her mind. The touch does stop, but he's still there, next to her bed, waiting. It's only when the sound of her heartbeat stops thrumming in her ears does she hear his voice. Finnick's voice. It sounds distant, and pained. He's whispering to her. Shushing her. Trying to calm her.

"Annie," he says. "Open your eyes. Please look at me. I'm here."

She doesn't open her eyes right away, though, allowing herself to let her body relax first, to loosen the tension from the inside out. She doesn't realize her hands are over her ears until she moves them and when she does, the breathing she hears isn't raspy, but shaky.

Strands of her hair are being gently moved aside to reveal her face, and she jerks back just a bit.

"Sorry," whispers Finnick, his voice not so distant anymore, but the sound of his pain is still in it.

It's because of this that she finally opens her eyes. At first, all she sees is a watery blur, so she tries to blink it away, only realizing then that the blur are from the tears that forced its way out of her eyes. She hastily wipes them away with the palms of her hands, and when her eyes clear, the face looking back at her mirrors the pain she heard in his voice.

"Finnick!"

She barely gets his name out before she jumps at him and tightens her arms around his neck, not wanting to ever let go. Luckily, Finnick is strong enough to take the squeeze of her seemingly delicate arms. There is no gap between them, but he pulls her to him just the same, holding onto her as if she were to fall into an abyss he can't get her out of. For all she imagines, she could be on the edge of a dark abyss.

Annie chides herself inwardly for letting her fear overcome her, for letting her semi-insane mind control her instinct, and pushing Finnick away when all she wants is to be close to him.

She moves one of her hands up to the back of his neck and runs her fingers through his hair, which is slightly damp, indicating to her that he had just come from a shower. She feels his body shiver at her touch as he's holding her and it makes her feel good to know that she has this affect on him. For some reason, it gives her courage that she didn't think she'd ever be able to achieve in a relationship like this. Of course, she never thought she'd be able to _have_ a relationship like this – one based off of friendship, intimacy, trust, and love. It had only been a cruel dream before, but now it is something real. The circumstances aren't ideal for them, but part of her is somehow able to appreciate that fact. That in such a hardened and emotionally displaced world, they have been able to find something that goes beyond anything that the Capitol could offer, even their so-called freedom. It is all she needs to keep going. And she has it, with Finnick.

Annie buries her face in the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Oddly enough, he smells of the beach after a thunderstorm, mixed with a fragrance that is completely and uniquely Finnick. She tells herself to remember that scent, to remind her what to look for when he comes to check on her to make sure she's sleeping well enough. She always waits for him to come by before she really falls asleep, because that's what helps her find rest.

Annie silently and softly presses her lips against the pulse on his neck. "I'm sorry." She feels his sigh before she hears it as the tension in his shoulders release. She moves her head back a little more and presses her lips against the curve of his jaw. "I never want to push you away."

"I know," he says breathily.

She stops and pulls back more to look at him, look into his eyes. The black pupils shrink back slightly to smaller dots amidst the sea of green that surround them. "Still, I shouldn't have let my fear take control."

"You have every right to be scared, and it will take time to overcome it."

"I hurt you."

He frowns slightly at her shaking his head, causing her to look away. But he pulls at her chin, forcing her to look back at him. "Hey, if I'm not allowed to blame myself, then I can't let you do the same thing," says Finnick, changing his frown to a little smirk. "Right?"

She returns his smirk with her own. "Right."

He moves in to kiss her, but breaks it before she can really embrace him. However, he gets up from the floor and sits on the edge of the bed. She adjusts herself so she can sit next to him, and takes a deep breath before resting her head against his shoulder. She feels his hand stroke the back of her head and move down her back. She missed this.

There were days when she and Finnick didn't do much but be near each other. Sometimes they would lie next to each other on the sofa, or on the beach, or on the boat, and not say anything for quite a while. It wasn't even about kissing all the time, although they did it often enough. But they were content enough to just be in each other's presence.

She spent days looking forward to and remembering his caresses on her skin, especially her face. He would stroke her cheek with the back of his hand so softly that it made it easy to forget how strong he is, until he pulled her in close to him, and felt those same warm hands massage her shoulders, her neck, and her back, working their way firmly up and down her spine, rubbing away any stress she had felt that day. It drove her to a different kind of crazy when that happened and she couldn't help but kiss him deeply. Sometimes they would laugh afterwards, allowing that tension to release before they held each other again and talked about insignificant things.

Other days were spent talking about everything else - well, almost everything else. They had learned so much of each other in the past year from living in the same house. They became partners in much of the chores around the house, making cleaning a more entertaining and interactive experience. After Annie's first trip on the boat with Finnick, she would always go with him. Finnick never considered going out there otherwise. She helped him with steering the boat and he helped her with knots and spearing with his trident, which she found a little uncomfortable. And whatever he caught, they would clean and cook together. It helped keep her mind busy, focused on the task at hand, and so she didn't have much time to linger and recall the past.

They avoided such topics as their time in the Games, his assignments or her abuses, which, aside from that one night, Finnick did not even know much more of. It was something she never spoke to anyone about and only contemplated about telling him after her father was killed. Only her fear of what would happen to him prevented her from telling him, knowing that he may very well act on the knowledge and be rid of Garcen, which would lead to Finnick being executed or tortured or both. She certainly didn't want that, and it was more than enough incentive for her to never tell a soul about who abused her, even though it was the same person who killed her father. As much as she loved her father, killing Garcen and thus having Finnick executed wouldn't bring her father back.

Now, it seems that memories of her abuse and of that night are bound to keep reminding both of them of how much it still affects her and will probably always affect her, no matter how distracted she can get. And it's something that will always haunt Finnick as well. She wonders if it will matter then if he at least knows about that part of her past, without having to mention exactly who's to blame. The memories won't go away, she knows that much. But maybe with his help, with his understanding, he can help her overcome them better.

"You know I trust you more than anyone," says Annie.

"Yes, I know."

"I want to tell you more. I'm just not sure-"

"Annie," he says as he squeezes her closer to him. "I'll wait as long as you need me to wait. I know… you've been hurt." The muscles in his jaw tighten after he says the last word and he squeezes his eyes shut for a brief second before taking another deep breath. "When you're ready to tell me, I will do what I can to help you."

She knows he means it, just as he meant it many times before, but the doubt in her doesn't dissipate.

"What if you can't help me? What if one of these days, I'll just go completely mad and I can't tell you from the enemy?"

"Look at me," says Finnick sternly and he slightly nudges her head away from his shoulder.

She moves her head up, but she's hesitant to look at his eyes now, and stares at the center of his chin instead.

"Look at me, love," he says again, softer this time. Annie shifts her eyes slowly up to his and again focuses on the black pupils of his eyes, glancing at one pupil, then the other, trying not to see the emotion surrounding them. It works for a split second, but he turns his head at an angle and observes her. "Annie."

Suddenly, his sea green eyes penetrate through her, and, as if she has taken a step back, she notices his whole face - the defined jaw, the structured cheekbones, the straight line of his nose, the bronze-colored hair that sometimes highlight different tones when they're in the sunlight, the distinct outline of his pleasantly soft lips, which fit perfectly over her own. _How handsome he is._ It's not that she didn't know him to be handsome before, but what she knows about him makes him more beautiful to her than anyone could ever appreciate.

"Annie, you are a strong person. You will get through this. I know you will."

Annie looks at him carefully, trying to find any kind of misgiving in what he just said, but she doesn't find any.

"How do you know?" asks Annie.

"You are stronger than you realize. You're stronger than me in many ways, I think. Maybe you can't see it, but I can. You said you can trust me, so trust me on this."

"I still need you."

"And I need you. That doesn't make what I said any less true," says Finnick, stroking her cheek with the back of his hand. She leans into it and closes her eyes. "Do you believe me?"

She does believe him. Annie takes a deep breath in, then out, in relief of her knowledge of this. Then corners of her mouth move up in a rare playful-like grin. "I don't know. I think you need to convince me more."

Finnick stops his hand in mid stroke and she opens her eyes, only to see him put out his arm in front of her in an unfamiliar fashion, bent at the elbow with hand opened sideways.

"Okay, want to arm wrestle me, then?" says Finnick unflinching at first, but then bursts out a big grin when Annie looks at him quizzically. Suddenly, she pushes Finnick until he's lying on her bed and they both laugh. She missed his playfulness, too.

She lies down beside him, and rests her head on his chest. Then a thought occurs to her and she sits up straight, staring at him with a worrisome look on her face.

"What?" asks Finnick.

"Are you supposed to be here?"

A darkness flits across his face for a moment, and he looks up at the ceiling.

"It's okay," he pauses. "_It_ starts in a few hours."

The Games. Annie only just realizes that she definitely had been watching the interview the night before. "Oh." A lump forms in her throat and she swallows. Finnick pulls her back to him and she lies back down on his chest, his arm folding around her shoulders.

She shivers at the thought of having to endure the Games without him by her side again, let alone here at the Capitol. Where she's safer. She wonders if Finnick isn't going a little crazy himself, to think that she is strong.

She has a feeling she will find out just how strong she is soon enough.

**x~~~~~~~x**

It's strange to Finnick how certain events, no matter how similar they are to previous events, can cause such a dramatic effect. This is the 74th year of the Hunger Games, and yet, every year seems to yield different reactions each time. But there are always twenty-three deaths, not counting the Quarter Quell that Haymitch became victor, in which there were forty-seven deaths. Still, that one didn't have cause any riots in the districts, which when he thinks about it, wonders why not. Then he remembers the peacekeepers.

Panem has a certain amount of peacekeepers on reserve for each district on a regular basis, but usually, they have a higher amount of peacekeepers on standby during the Games, for just the sort of thing that is now happening in District 11.

This is the first riot Finnick has known about during his time as victor. So, instead of just the two children dying, unless one of them is a victor, dozens of people end up dying in the aftermath. Of course, in the Capitol, the blame can easily be faulted to the district. The Capitol citizens, or those who actually care to watch about it instead of the Games themselves, are led to understand and believe that the district should be punished for causing such dissention.

Finnick looks around the game headquarters and heads toward the one that may know something about what's going on.

"Haymitch," he greets the slightly buzzed District 12 mentor.

"Finnick, fancy meeting you here."

"Likewise, considering by this time, you're usually at your favorite hangout," banters Finnick. Finnick knows that something about the two tributes from District 12 have finally gotten Haymitch's attention, enough to where he's actually trying to help them stay alive.

"Yeah, well, what can I say. I guess I just needed a little fire under me to get going… or something," replies Haymitch. It's a critical moment in the Games now that his female tribute, Katniss, is on the search for her fellow tribute, Peeta.

Normally, Finnick wouldn't even know the names of these tributes, since they're from District 12 and they hardly survive past the Cornucopia to remember them, but for some reason, Katniss is rather well known around the Capitol now. Finnick knows it's not really by her own doing, but it doesn't matter. The citizens remember her, and that's all that matters in the Games. Peeta's confession at the interview definitely helped.

It also reminded Finnick how much he missed Annie, which is why he ended up excusing himself early from his assignment later that night after the interviews, claiming to feel unwell. It was late anyway, and the woman he was with probably wouldn't remember if she had a really fun night with him or anyone else for that matter, as drunk as she was. He had escorted her back to her apartment and left her passed out on her bed, then went back to the hotel, took a shower, and quietly went to check on Annie in her and Mags' hotel room. It was so late, but he had to make sure she was okay. They spent the morning comforting each other, anticipating the time of the start of the Games. That was almost a week ago. He hadn't gone back to seen her since.

"Tough call with the little girl, huh?" asks Finnick, talking about the girl whose death had apparently caused a riot somewhere in District 11.

Haymitch looks over at the District 11 station, and sees Chaff there looking a bit more frenzied than usual. Chaff is obviously under watch now by security, which probably means they're all under watch.

"Not my concern," says Haymitch, who then points to the screen showing Katniss. "She's my concern."

Finnick looks around, making sure none of the security are close enough for them to hear him. "I'm just wondering if we should keep our eyes out for any…'issues.'"

Haymitch flashes his eyes in Finnick's direction, but only just. Finnick knows it might not be a good idea to bring it up in such a carefully guarded area. But Haymitch again concentrates on what's happening on the screen in front of him.

"Not that I can gather," says Haymitch a little too hastily. Finnick understands that's probably the end of the conversation about the riots. He won't be able to get any more information from him.

"Yeah, I guess it's better to try and help those than can be helped," says Finnick, noticing the District 12 tribute girl's surprisingly skillful way in the environment she's in. "She definitely has incredible survival skills, and her use of the bow and arrow..."

Haymitch mumbles something about the training center having improved their techniques with the tributes, but Finnick knows better. Just as he learned how to use a trident in District 4, Katniss has somehow learned how to hunt with a bow and arrow in District 12.

"Yeah, right. As if she actually learned how to shoot right on target those bag of apples from a few days in the training center," scoffs a familiar female voice. "Just like I learned how to swing my ax so precisely at my fellow tributes." Johanna laughs. "Your girl is a total piece of work."

Finnick is not sure whether that's supposed to be a compliment or insult, but from the way Johanna says it, it's probably more of the latter.

"At least it's gotten her this far," counters Finnick.

"Sure, and now she's going to go look for that loverboy of hers," Johanna scoffs again. "I don't know how you did it, Haymitch, but there's hope for you yet, unless she gets them both killed."

"Shut up, or I'll cut both your tongues out," says Haymitch. Johanna laughs even more, then stops abruptly when someone stands just outside their circle and taps Finnick on the shoulder. Finnick turns around to face an avox holding a note for him.

Finnick looks at both Johanna and Haymitch, who both stare down at the note in his hand. "Excuse me."

He walks out of the headquarters and opens the note, expecting to see who his next assignment is. However, when he reads it, it's as if a boulder has slammed square into his gut. It's not an assignment. It's a question, and the question couldn't be plainer to him than the beating of his now racing heart:

_How strong do you think she is? _

* * *

><p><strong>END NOTES:<strong>

I updated it on 5/17/2012 with just a few grammatical and punctuation corrections. _  
><em>


	21. Chapter 21

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place during the 74**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick, Annie, and Mags return to the Capitol for the Hunger Games. President Snow confronts Finnick, then Annie. Annie deals with what her relationship with Finnick can do to both of them. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, President Coriolanus Snow**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T, but more for older teens. **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 21: Accepting the Consequences<p>

Finnick knows where he needs to go, even though it takes every part of him to not go to the Victor's Hotel to see if Annie is there, or hope that is where she is. Even if she is there, the note means to summon him to see Snow, and if he goes to the hotel, it will only prove to Snow that Annie is a weakness for Finnick.

In all his planning to bring Annie to the Capitol with him to keep her safe from the would-be abuser in District 4, not once did he think to plan for _this_ to happen. Not once did he think that Annie would be kept from him here. Why he didn't think something like this would happen is completely careless of him, he realizes. They are, after all, in President Snow's home territory. Finnick had been worried so much about Annie being unprotected in District 4 without him there that he didn't expect her to still be unprotected in the Capitol. _Stupid!_

Guilt washes over him. Finnick knows if Annie were to see him now, she would probably be upset at him for feeling that way about it. She would probably push again his chest in annoyance for it, too.

Be he doesn't care now if she were to get mad. He'd welcome her to push him. At least he would be able to feel her touch, to be with her and hold her while he apologized for his stupidity or for his guilt or for his desire to always want to protect her himself. Oh, how he wanted to just see her face at this very moment.

Unfortunately, he doesn't even know where she is. Snow has her, and probably Mags, too. In what location, he can only guess. In what condition they're in, he has no clue, and the thought of not knowing is squeezing his chest like a vice. As he stands in front of Snow in his office, it's taking all of his will to keep from running up to wretched man, pulling him by his collar and demanding that he release Annie.

"I'm disappointed in you, Finnick," says Snow. "I had presumed that from our last conversation, your agreement was honorable. That you would perform your duties without any distractions. But I was mistaken."

Finnick's expression is that of confusion, but President Snow only sighs in annoyance. "I'm sorry if it has seemed that I haven't been fulfilling my assignments, but I assure you-"

"You can assure me nothing, Mr. Odair," interrupts Snow. His cold eyes glare at Finnick for several seconds and neither move or flinch for that time. Finnick can't flinch, he can barely move. He knows that Annie could get hurt in all this if he doesn't play this out just right. For all he knows, Annie is already being tortured. Just the thought brings a slight stab in his chest. Any threat he makes at Snow at this moment could not only damage Annie more, but could render him even more helpless than he is feeling right now. The two security guards standing off on the sides of Snow's office will see to that. When Finnick feels he can no longer look at the man who holds the keys to Annie's life, Snow speaks.

"At first, I was a little surprised that you decided to bring her here with you." Snow pauses. "But I gave you a benefit of a doubt, allowing her to stay when I could have very well sent her back to District 4." Finnick tenses at the idea of that. "Your first assignment was very pleased with you."

"Thank you-"

"I'm not done." Finnick closes his mouth and avoids looking at Snow in the eyes by focusing on a spot on the wall behind the president. Finnick feels a heat rising up from his chest, through his neck, swirling into his cheeks and ears. "Your second assignment, however, was not as pleased." Another pause and Finnick looks at Snow. "You _do_ know your assignments require you through the evening until you are released, do you not?"

Finnick shifts his eyes down to a spot on Snow's desk now.

"Do you not, Mr. Odair?"

"Yes, I know."

"So, tell me then. Exactly what time did you leave from your second assignment?" asks Snow contemptuously. Finnick can almost hear the vile spewing out with every word Snow utters, like poison.

"I'm not sure. It couldn't have been any earlier than 6." Finnick could see Snow's eyes darken at his answer, but he doesn't want to let up. Snow knows he is lying, but he isn't about to admit it. He could say he didn't realize the time or that the lady had passed out and wouldn't have been able to release him at a reasonable hour.

The problem with those excuses, however, is that he had never left an assignment early before. If anything, he stayed much later than he even wished to leave. Before this year, he _would_ actually wait until the lady woke up to be released. But he did no such thing this time around. In fact, he had tried to excuse himself early from his third assignment as well. It didn't work, which was just as well, because he was afraid of something wrong happening, something like this.

Snow slowly shakes his head in disagreement at Finnick. "Do you think me so gullible, Mr. Odair? You were back at the Victor's Hotel _before_ 5am. Daylight had not even appeared yet."

Finnick couldn't find any argument against that.

"I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't feeling well at the time," Finnick says weakly.

"And you felt the best medicine was to be found in… Ms. Cresta's room?" Finnick's expression breaks just briefly into panic at the mention of Annie, and his mouth gapes open to try to answer, but he can't think of what he could possibly say to try to alleviate Snow's apparent ability to set his fear into motion. His hands close tightly into fists, forcing his fingernails to dig into his palms.

"Sir… nothing… happened. I just wanted to check on her."

"Of course you did. She is your _friend_, after all. She's been through some traumatic experiences," says Snow rather calmly. Too calmly for Finnick to find sincere. Finnick notices the faint smirk across Snow's face, and it rattles him to the bone, because he knows that sneer is hiding something that Snow is only too anxious to disclose.

"Since you're so concerned for Ms. Cresta's welfare," says Snow dispassionately, "I think it best that she… stay under my supervision. For the time being."

Suddenly, Finnick feels like his head is about to explode from the heat rising in him and his chest is being crushed under the weight of something very heavy and very pointed. He doesn't inhale, but he can't seem to exhale either, and his knees almost buckle under him. He tries to focus and he clenches his fists tighter, making his nails dig deeper into his palms.

He wants to say something. He wants to beg and plead for Snow to let her go, and he wonders, amidst the piercing pain that is hitting his chest, and between actual breaths, if anything he says now will make Snow change his mind. He tries his best to control his breathing so he can speak without sounding like a frightened 12-year-old boy.

"President Snow, that won't be necessary, really," he says. "I assure you I don't plan to see her again until all my assignments are completed," he concludes, trying to sound indifferent about Annie being kept from him, but even he cannot convince himself of his own words.

"Oh, I think we can agree that your assurances mean little to me now, Mr. Odair," hisses Snow.

"She won't be a bother to anyone," says Finnick, trying again not to sound too distressed about the whole thing, hoping that he can act this one out as he does when he's on assignments. But the way that Snow is looking at him doesn't give him much hope.

"I'm afraid it's too late for that. She has already proven herself to be a distraction to you, and that is quite a bother," says Snow coolly. Finnick can't help but swallow hard at those words. "But let _me_ assure _you_ that she will be quite safe here under my care."

Snow taps the remote control on his desk towards a screen that is on the wall behind Finnick, and gestures at Finnick to turn around. On the screen is a rather plain looking room. There is nothing adorning the walls, and the hard cement floor is without a carpet or a rug to warm it. There is a small bed that contains a pillow, but no blanket. In one of the corners of the room stand a toilet and a sink which is obviously not well hidden from the eye of the camera. Even though the monitor displays the image in black and white, it can be assumed that the room actually is just a plain white, or maybe even gray, room. It's a dull, cold cell, meant to give the occupant of it a kind of bleakness to their situation. But the cell itself isn't what catches Finnick's eye.

In the farthest corner from the door is the figure of a person. He is familiar with the position of the person. He has seen it so many times before. The way the arms wrap around the knees as the knees are pulled up to the chest. And the hair, long and dark and unkempt, much of it covering the face. Finnick doesn't have to see the face to know it's her.

Annie.

Despite Snow's guarantee of Annie's safety, seeing her alone in such an isolated room, Finnick already knows she's far from feeling safe. She's not screaming or yelling for help, but it's only a matter of time before her fragile mind begins to fall apart. Standing there in the office of President Snow, unaware of where he has her kept, he knows he can't do anything about it. Still, the anger that he's been trying to hold back rises in him, ready to break out and do some damage to anything or anyone.

Finnick spins around so fast that even Snow flinches just slightly, but the two security guards already anticipate his reaction and he's knocked to the floor with a literal hit in his gut. Finnick crouches with his head down, holding his stomach and trying to catch his breath, which has been effectively knocked out of him. After seeing Annie on the screen, he would much rather have twenty hits to the gut than feel the piercing and squeezing pain in his chest. _Annie, what have I done?_

"Please…," croaks Finnick after several seconds of being able to breathe again.

"Pardon me?" asks Snow, acting as if he didn't hear the word.

"Please… don't hurt her."

Snow sighs. "Get up."

Finnick moves to get up, but holds his stomach trying will away the pain. He takes a breath, then another. "She doesn't deserve to be locked up."

"She won't be, at least not forever, as long as you do your job," Snow hisses at him. "Once the Games are done, and all your remaining assignments have been completed - exceedingly well I might add - then you will have your dear Ms. Cresta back in your care again."

Finnick glares at him. Snow can't think him to be such a fool to know there isn't more to what he's saying.

"President Snow," Finnick pauses, wondering briefly if it's such a good idea to continue with his thought, but the words come out before he can fully think it over. "How do I know you're not lying? How can you expect me to believe you?"

Snow turns his head slightly and his eyes darken. Finnick is bigger than Snow and can truly show his aggressive nature if he really wants to. He is a victor, after all. But of course, that would only get him killed at this point, and get her killed as well, to say the least. An image of Snow being pierced in the gut by his trident flashes in his mind, but he prevents a smirk from coming across his face, because now is not the time for that. _Annie._ He needs to make sure she will not be harmed at the hands of this vile man.

"Well, that's just the point, isn't it?" says Snow. "You don't. You'll just have to… trust me."

Trust Snow? Finnick wants to laugh for the entire world to hear, but he only grimaces, still feeling the pain of the cheap shot taken at him, combined with the agony of again seeing Annie in that cold cell she's trapped in.

"Mr. Odair, I have no qualms with her. Do your assignments. Entertain them with your smiles and charm and everything else you have to offer. Then you _will_ get to see her again after the Games are done. If you cannot find it within yourself to please them anymore, well… I don't think you'd want me to elaborate on that idea."

Finnick squeezes his eyes, pushing the hot tears back behind his lids. He feels like his head is about to explode from all the anger and despair he's holding in. He looks at the screen again and sees her face. For some reason, she turns her head in the direction of the camera, and it's like she's looking at him. There's no way for her to know that he sees her; still, there's something he sees in her face that lets him think otherwise. It's not like he can see her face that well from where she's sitting, but there is something there. A smile. It's not a smile of joy or happiness and anyone else who would see this wouldn't think anything different of her. They would maybe play it off as part of a delirious state. But Finnick knows better. That smile is for him. It's as if she's letting him know she's okay and she's giving him the strength that he needs to get through this. Yes, that's it.

With that thought in mind, Finnick straightens up, pulls his shoulder's back, and takes a deep breath. He turns around to look at President Snow with much more assurance than he came in there with.

"I understand. I will do as you wish me to do. I won't let you down again," says Finnick with confidence in his voice.

Snow doesn't hesitate. "Good." He hands Finnick his next assignment and Finnick takes it without any wavering.

"May I ask where my other fellow victor is?" asks Finnick regarding Mags. Snow doesn't clasps his hands in front of him.

"I felt… _Annie_ was sufficient enough to prove my point, correct?" Finnick nods, trying to ignore the squeeze in his chest at Annie's name. "You are free to go." Finnick gives Snow a terse nod before exiting the room.

As Finnick walks back into the streets of the Capitol, he knows he cannot fail. The despair lingers deep within him, but he can't let it take over. He will do what he needs to do and he will get her back and they will find a way to leave the Capitol. And to leave District 4. Somehow, they have to find a way out.

**x~~~~~~~x**

"Thank you."

"I didn't do anything. You took me."

"You don't need to do anything more. Your presence in this room is enough."

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because he needs to understand."

"Understand?"

"Yes."

"Understand what?"

"That things could be much worse."

She looks up at him from her curled up position in the corner of the room. Her eyes drift back to the camera on the corner opposite her. Hands pull her up off the floor. Back on her feet, she tries to pull her arm free. "Let go of me!" The security guard accompanying Snow releases her, and she stands in front of Snow, avoiding his eyes, hiding behind the strands of hair that cover her face.

Snow grabs her by the chin to force her face close to his. She gasps at his forcefulness and his breath stings her nose. The faint smell of blood makes her nose wrinkle.

"Ms. Cresta, I assured Mr. Odair that you would not be harmed under my supervision. Do not make me out to be a liar."

"But you are a liar," says Annie. Annie's eyes widen and look at him to see his reaction. She did not mean to say it aloud.

"Is that so? Would you think me a liar if I told you that Finnick's life may not be worthy of keeping?"

The fear that President Snow has been waiting to see up close in Annie's eyes comes across clearly at that query. A whimper escapes her mouth, and Snow smirks at this reaction. She knows this is what he wants to see. Fear. Not just any kind of fear. But fear of him. Fear of his power, and his ability to end a life so ruthlessly, so openly. But even with this, she knows that he wants them to fear him because allowing them even a sliver of power over him could destroy all that he's worked for. This is what she knows. He's powerless without their fear. And it's working.

"No. You're not lying about that," she says. Snow is still holding her by her chin.

"No, I'm not." His breath is so revolting, but she can't even turn away. After a few more seconds, though, he releases Annie and she turns her head away. She is surprised that she is able to keep herself so focused during this whole exchange.

"What's going to happen now?" she asks meekly.

Snow steps back and nods at an avox standing by the door with a tray of food. The avox sets it down on the edge of the sink, and leaves, closing the door behind him.

"You will stay here for until the Games are completed and Mr. Odair has satisfactorily finished all his assignments. Then you will leave with him and go back home to District 4."

Several seconds pass before she can speak again.

"Why am I here? Why not just tell me at the hotel? Have guards over me there?"

"Because, my dear, you are too much of a distraction. And it's more effective this way."

"But I haven't seen him for days-"

"A week, actually. And that is true, but once was enough. I didn't have him come here to entertain _you_, Ms. Cresta. He has duties that I'm sure you're aware of, and he needs to focus on entertaining them, you understand?"

He steps closer to her again, his face mere inches away from hers. "Tell me, Ms. Cresta, do you like how he kisses you?" She tries not to breathe in the foul smell of blood that permeates Snow's breath as he speaks, unrelenting in his plan to unmake her. She swallows and pushes back against the wall to keep as far away from him as possible, afraid of what he might do, if he might touch her again. "Do you _like_ how his hands caress your arms? Your neck? Your back?" He reaches for some of her hair and fiddles with it between his fingers. Another whimper crosses her lips, and his face is smug. "I'm sure you do. He certainly knows how to please a woman. He's very good at it, the act of seduction."

Annie's mind is whirling with the thoughts of Finnick's kisses and touches. To have Snow hint that it may be all an act, to try to make her doubt Finnick's love for her, is cruel and vile. Finally, she's pushed enough to speak. "He's not acting with me."

Snow straightens up, releases the bit of hair he had in his hand, and moves back a bit to observe her face. His eyes darken and she can't help but turn away again. "Maybe not, but know this - if you become too much of a distraction for him again, even when you're in your lovely make-believe family setting in District 4, I may… not have use for him any longer."

Even though she can be downright unstable at times, Annie hasn't lost her focus, and she is keenly aware of Snow's intention now.

"Are you're saying you want me to leave him?" She asks, but she knows the answer.

"I'm saying that sometimes sacrifices need to be made to keep the ones that you care about safe."

_Safe._ Finnick wanted to keep her safe by bringing her with him to the Capitol. She almost wants to laugh at the irony. In fact, she closes her eyes and does just that.

She must've lost focus sometime after, because when she finally looks back up, the room is empty, and it feels like it has been for a while. She looks at the tray of food on the edge of the sink but doesn't feel anywhere close to hungry. She will eventually have to eat. It would be no good to Finnick if she were to starve to death in here, although she assumes they would probably find a way to make her eat if it came down to it.

One of the walls turns into a screen and the Games are showing. Just another way to break her without even touching her.

_You are stronger than you realize. You're stronger than me in many ways, I think. Maybe you can't see it, but I can. You said you can trust me, so trust me on this._

"I trust you," whispers Annie.

She is stronger now. She has a plan. She can do it, as long as she reminds herself why she needs to do it. She needs to keep Finnick safe, too. She knows what she needs to do. But will she be able to, she wonders. She has to, or things could get worse and it would be her fault.

She has to break off her relationship with Finnick to keep him safe. She will have to summon all the strength she has to do it.

But now, she's going to allow herself a respite from her strength. She crawls onto the bed, pulls her legs into her chest, and feels the stab in her heart with each beat as she cries herself to sleep with nothing to comfort her but her own arms.

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><p><strong>END NOTES:<strong>

This chapter was originally almost twice as long as it is now, but I didn't feel comfortable with the 2nd half of it, so that will come next week.


	22. Chapter 22

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place at the end of the 74**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games, and a few weeks after that. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: The Hunger Games have just ended, and Katniss & Peeta are now victors, which also means Finnick is almost done with his time in the Capitol as well. But will he and Annie be able to return to life as usual in District 4? **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Haymitch Abernathy, Sapphire Welsh* (Other major characters in the THG universe are mentioned, but have no speaking parts);  
>* = original characters<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

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><p>x~~~~~~~x<p>

Chapter 22: The Acts of Letting Go

Finnick couldn't help but be more intrigued by the 3-hour video recap of the 74th Annual Hunger Games than any other recap he's seen. He is shocked, as are many others. There are_ two_ victors this year. Haymitch, in all his drunkenness throughout the years, pulled off what could be considered an impossible feat. He somehow managed to have both his tributes from District 12 not only survive till the end, but also live to see this day.

He wonders how on earth he was able to manage a star-crossed-lovers idea for those two so that all of Panem was sympathizing for them. But he did it. Somehow those two tributes were allowed to live – and find love together – although he has a feeling, a very strong feeling, that Katniss Everdeen is not truly in love with Peeta Mellark. Finnick should know. He knows what love looks like on the face of a person. And Katniss doesn't have that look.

Finnick is certainly not going to call foul to it. She did what she had to to survive, and it worked for Katniss as much as it did for Peeta. Of course, it does help to have the hunting skills that Katniss has for her to be able to have gotten as far as she did in the first place. And even though Peeta lost his leg, that's far less than losing his life.

Whatever the reason the people behind this year's Games have for keeping them both alive, he certainly has a feeling this change could affect all of Panem, but probably more within the districts. He's not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

During the Victory Banquet at the president's mansion, Finnick's final 'date' makes her way towards where he is standing. Haymitch is standing next to him in relief. "I need a drink."

"Well, I have to admit, you deserve it this time," says Finnick. He looks at Haymitch and sees a concern on his face, and he realizes that Haymitch is probably thinking the same thing about the fact that there are two victors this year. He wants to try to talk to him about it, but considering where they are, this is not the best time for such conversation.

Haymitch looks at him blankly. "I don't know what this means," says Haymitch with a low voice that Finnick barely hears over the clatter of so much chatter and music and noise.

"Neither do I. Have there ever been two victors?"

Haymitch shakes his head, and looks up at Sapphire Welsh now that she's placed herself within their circle.

"Haymitch Abernathy, just the person I wanted to see."

Finnick raises his eyebrows in surprise and turns to look at her, but her eyes are on Haymitch. She has an odd look on her face, and she slowly moves in front of Haymitch to give him a hug. Finnick doesn't know what to do or what to say, so he just stands there looking around to see if anyone else notices this particularly odd gesture lavished on the mentor of District 12.

When Sapphire releases Haymitch from the hug, she grabs hold of Finnick's hand. Finnick glances at Haymitch, but Haymitch stares blankly at him.

"Come dear, we must dance," says Sapphire.

"Of course, my lady," Finnick pulls her hand up to his lips seductively, looking her up and down. "I love dancing." Finnick glances back at Haymitch, but Haymitch is looking elsewhere, and he turns to see his gaze is directed towards Katniss and Peeta. Whatever conversation he wants to have with Haymitch will have to wait for another time, some other way.

_One more assignment, and then we can go home. One more assignment, and then I can see Annie again. _

He's been playing his part quite well since his meeting with Snow. He had to, or else the consequences would be too horrific for him to live through.

And finally, with Sapphire Welsh again, he would have to make sure she receives the best attention she can get from him. He's already done well in the past two days he's been with her, but this would be his final night and he had to make sure she had no doubts about him whatsoever. He knows one word from her could destroy everything. It could kill both him and Annie, and Sapphire wouldn't care.

After the banquet, they enter the room of Sapphire's apartment; she turns on the music while Finnick makes a drink for her while he pours himself a glass of water, not wanting to deal with the after effects of alcohol. She plops herself on the sofa, curling her legs up to the side of her and looks away, unease appearing on her face.

"Something wrong?" asks Finnick, walking to her and holding out the drink. His heart races a little trying to think if she's upset at him for some reason. She only shakes her head as she grabs the drink from his hand.

"These parties are so… frustrating at times," says Sapphire, taking a sip. "Come here and massage my feet, will you." It's not a request as much as it is an order, but he's not about to disobey either way.

It doesn't take long for her drink to be done, and she's already had quite a bit during the banquet, so it's surprising that after having her eyes closed for 15 minutes while he massages her feet, she starts talking as if she's completely sober.

"I'm going to die soon," she says nonchalantly. Finnick's not sure what she means.

"Are you sick?"

Sapphire guffaws. "No, no. I almost wish that were the case." She moves her free hand to her face, carefully pushing the tips of her finger and thumb to her closed eyes, as if to keep herself from crying.

Finnick's not sure if he should try to comfort her in some way, to keep massaging her feet, or to completely stop. But before he can ask or say anything, she takes a deep breath, removes her hand from her face, turns to look at him, and makes to speak.

"I'm only going to tell you this because this will be my last secret for you," she says and puts her hand up to keep Finnick from interrupting, which he was about to do. "And hopefully you will be able to forgive me for using you as have." Sapphire takes another deep breath before continuing. "I know you could probably care less about us here in the Capitol, and I completely understand. If I was in your position, I might think the same, too. But I'm not. I'm a selfish person, I'm weak, I'm conniving, and I have done unforgivable things in my life, which is probably obvious to you since I have you here with me now."

Finnick sees that she's making some sort of confession, but he still doesn't understand why, but he continues to look on her, watching her, waiting for her to get to the point.

"Finnick, dear, I am sorry," says Sapphire, her voice cracking at the word 'sorry'. "I don't know if this information will help you at all, or make things worse in knowing this, so I want to tell I'm sorry now."

Sapphire gets up from the sofa, leaving Finnick's hands free to wipe a bit with his napkin. Then she sits back down next to him, hips touching. She leans into the side of his face and pulls his head close so that her lips are just barely touching the edge of his ear.

"District 13 is not abandoned."

It takes a moment for Finnick to register what Sapphire just said, but when it does, he pulls back to look at her face. There is a sense of sorrow on her face, but also relief, as if she just took a load off her shoulders. And even though he heard it pretty clearly, he can't stop himself from replying "What?"

"Don't worry, you're not the only one that knows this now," she says quietly.

"Why are you telling me then?"

"Because I wanted you to know," says Sapphire, then she pulls him close again, her lips to his ear. "Because Seneca Crane is dead, and because I'll be dead soon, too."

Even though she is done saying what she wanted to say, she is still holding onto him, and he puts his arms around her, not only to comfort her, but to hold on to something as he suddenly feels the walls caving in around them.

He wants to ask more, but as it's obvious Sapphire's apartment is being tapped into by her having to whisper this in his ear, he has to try to make his question sound ambiguous.

"What do you want me to do?"

Sapphire pulls her head up from where she laid it on his shoulder, and she looks at him as he looks down at her. "Just hold me tonight. That's all I want. Like Katniss and Peeta. Please."

Finnick stands and pulls Sapphire up with him and leads her to her own bedroom. As he strips down to his boxers, Sapphire spends her time in the bathroom, first removing all her jewelry and placing it on her vanity along with her blue wig, then scrubbing off all her make up until all that is left is a bare face. She puts on her satin gown before opening the door that leads to her bedroom.

As she stands there, Finnick looks at her and realizes that he has never actually seen her without her makeup. She usually fell asleep with it on. He knows this is a unique moment in their relationship, if it can even be called that.

Sapphire sits on the side of the bed, almost embarrassed of herself.

"Hey," says Finnick. She turns to look at him. As he looks at her closely, he sees how pretty Sapphire actually is. She's definitely older, probably somewhere in her late 30s or early 40s as shown by the fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Her hair is a fine dark blond, which he already knew, but her natural eye color, usually replaced by blue lenses, are a soft shade of brown.

For the first time since he's met her, he gives her a genuine smile. "You're beautiful."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better," says Sapphire.

"Maybe," he admits. He pulls her to him on the bed and, just as they've both seen happen between Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark during Games, he puts his arms around her as she lays her head on his chest. "But it's true."

She falls asleep in his arms, and he can't help wondering about so many things about this woman that he barely knows. Why did she tell him such a big secret? What could he do with that information? Who else knows about this? Is it even true? If so, would it be a place that he, Annie, Turlach, and Mags be able to seek refuge in? The thought almost sounds too good to be true, so he tries to control his anxiety about it by closing his eyes and just breathing. With that, he falls asleep, too, thinking of Annie and the possibilities to come.

The next day, Sapphire releases him.

"Thank you," she says as she gives him one last hug, and then whispers in his ear, "I hope that someday you'll find true happiness, away from all of this."

Finnick hugs her back, "Sapphire-"

"No, no. This is where I was born; this is where I'll die. Go be with her." And he pulls back to look at her, only to be winked and smiled at. With that, he smiles back and exits out the door.

**x~~~~~~~x**

She watches him out her window. She knows this will be her final time seeing him and she's okay with that. She's okay in knowing that she'll probably be killed soon, although she doesn't know how, but she's ready for death to come. Seneca Crane, her young friend, sometimes lover, is already dead. She had not realized how much she truly cared about him until he was killed. She is done with this life and all of its misguided and deluded grandeur. Seeing Katniss and Peeta during these Games, and their love for each other, she knows she will never find that here. Maybe Finnick will find it. Maybe he already has it. She hopes he does, so that he can live that kind of love for her.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Mags, Annie, and Finnick quietly step onto the train and only when it departs the station does he take a big sigh of relief. Mags, feeling the relief as well, looks on at both of them and excuses herself to one of the rooms so she can rest. Obviously, the stress of not being able to see either of them during the past week kept her up at nights. Her eyes look dark and haunting.

In the dining car, Annie sits on the chair opposite him and he looks at her, but she's staring out the window blankly. He leans forward and gently places his hand on top of hers. She turns to look at him. For the first time since he left her in the hotel room almost two weeks ago, he is able to really look at her. The circles under her eyes are dark. The color in her complexion is pale and her cheeks have a hollowness to them. She most definitely had not been eating as much as she should have been in the care of President Snow.

It would be stupid for him to ask if she's okay, because obviously she's not. Guilt reflects on his face and she can't help but look down at his hand that covers her own.

"I'm sorry. I should've known he might do something like this. I was reckless-"

"It's okay. He didn't… hurt me," says Annie, but the tone of her words sound so strained, he's not sure if she means it.

"Annie, you can tell me anything. We're safe now." He cringes, knowing that word means nothing.

"No, we're not, Finnick. We both know it," she says defeatedly. She sniffs, but there are no tears. The silence feels daunting and his heart pounds a little harder. He tries to ignore the lump in his throat as he begins to speak again and squeezes her hand.

"Annie, things will work out. We're going home and I've been thinking-"

"I've been thinking, too," says Annie purposefully cutting Finnick off again, her eyes still staring down. He can see the struggle in her face and the trembling in her lips, and he's about to continue because he fears what she'll say. "I think… I think it's better if I move in with Mags."

Finnick loses his train of thought at the mention of this suggestion. He wants to say something, but he can't think anymore. Only one word comes to mind. "Wh-_what_?" He certainly didn't want to say that and give her a chance to repeat what she said, but he's still trying to figure out what exactly she means by that. _Moving out? Breaking up? Stopping everything?_

"I thought I could handle… what you did. I… hoped… I could… we could… get through this. But, this… us… we're not good for each other right now," she says, her voice cracking, as if she's forcing the words out. "It… hurts… to be with you."

_It hurts_… he feels that piercing ache in his chest again. His eyes can't stop looking at his hand on hers.

_But I need you. It hurts to be _without_ you. _ He wants to say them, but the words get lost in his throat, and for that split second that it does, he allows his mind to think about what it could mean to say that to her now. Will she want to hear them? Will that make her negate all that she has said? Will it crush her even more?

"Please, Annie, we've been through so much together. Please think about this-"

She shakes her head. "I _have_ thought about this," says Annie, her face struggling to stay composed. "I thought about this the whole time I was in that room, Finnick. He kept me there to scare both of us, and it worked."

It's Finnick's turn to shake his head, but she finally squeezes his hand back. "He can do things to us. To _you_. Worse than what he's already doing. If I can stop it-"

"No, don't do this. Please don't. We can find a way out of this," counters Finnick. He moves his chair closer to her so he can feel the soft skin of her face. Annie closes her eyes as she can't stop her lips from trembling under his touch. "Give me some time, please," he whispers to her. "I'll talk to Turlach and Mags we can find a way out- I mean through this." He wants to tell her about District 13, but he knows it's too risky to do so now in the train.

"No!" Annie says abruptly. She opens her eyes and for the first time since they stepped onto the train, she looks straight at him, and shows Finnick the fear and despair behind her green eyes, and it threatens to break him. Whatever President Snow said to her during her time in that room, it truly affected her. "Finnick… you said I was strong. I'm strong enough to stop this. But I don't think I'm strong enough to see you get… _killed_! Please don't make me try."

Even though it feels like it's literally tearing his heart apart, he understands, and he slowly moves his hand away from hers. For some reason there's a ringing in his ears and his vision blurs, so he closes his eyes.

"I know," whispers Finnick. It does hurt, and it's hurting them both. And as much as he wants to pull her to him and embrace her and kiss her and make things better, he's not sure if that's enough anymore. He has a plan, but it's a crazy plan. It could get them killed. It _will_ get them killed. Maybe her plan is better, so he doesn't say anything else. _I'm sorry._

When he opens his eyes again, he knows hours have passed. His eyes feel puffy and his throat feels dry. Did it really just happen? _Yes._

Does Annie not want to be with me anymore? _She does not. It could kill us._

Can I handle this? _I have to._

There's only the sound of the train whirring on the tracks now, taking them home. Taking them to District 4.

As Finnick walks along the corridor, he stops in front of the only closed door, and is about to knock on it. He wants to check on her, to make sure she's okay, or maybe to see if she's awake. But he hesitates, wrestling with his thoughts. _Give her at least some space during this ride back home._

They have maybe a couple of hours to go before they arrive back in District 4. He reasons with himself, knowing they'll have time when they get back to figure things out. Part of him does agree with her, that maybe it's best they take some time away, so that he can get back into the good graces of President Snow and he won't have to threaten him with Annie's life anymore, but another part of him, a more dominant part of him can't allow Snow to separate them. That part seems to win him over, and he resolves to fix this situation as soon as he can. Still…

Finnick finds his way to his room and lies down on the bed trying to think of something, anything, to change things back to what they were before they left for the Capitol. Whatever happened to her during her stay with President Snow has gotten her to see something that he didn't want to see himself.

That them being together has become more dangerous than comforting. That it's become more harmful than is joyful. Annie knew it before and she's come to accept it now.

He wants to accept it too, just to make the pain go away. But then again…

_Maybe I deserve the pain_.

"Annie," he whispers, and lets the pain swallow him.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick wakes up, still trying to listen for something. A whisper of his name, possibly. The sound of movement on a bed in the room across from his. But there is nothing. Just silence. Just the sound of the waves every once in a while breaking across the shore, and only if his window is open. Only if the tides are strong enough. They are today, stronger than they have been since they returned from the Capitol two weeks ago.

Two weeks.

Two weeks of silent mornings.

Two weeks of the dull throbbing pain in his chest.

Two weeks of waiting for something, for anything, to happen.

But nothing did.

It seems that maybe Annie was right all along. That maybe it was best that they were separated. That isn't to say she didn't have nightmares, though. He's certain she did. But she was somehow able to handle it, and she was able to do so without him being there. He knows, because she hasn't called for him at all. He knew it all along - she is strong.

And he is proud of her for being so strong. Despite the turmoil his heart had been going through the past two weeks, he is proud of her, and as long as she is strong, he will be able to get over this, and move on, knowing they will survive longer this way.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself. But the truth of it is he was completely lying to himself. In fact, when they returned to District 4, he very quickly fell ill, unable to eat, unable to sleep due to his own nightmares. Sometimes he dreamt of himself out on his boat, relaxing as he had done so many times before he met Annie. Then during his time of relaxing while closing his eyes, a feeling of dread would come over him, as if he had forgotten something. When his dream self opened his eyes, the storm clouds soon developed over him and he would try to get back to the dock, only to realize there was nothing around him but the deep blue. No shore, no row of houses from the Victor's Village, not even the sun. His dread of being lost forever would wake him up, and always with the sound of a scream of which he wasn't quite familiar with until he woke up. It was always Annie's scream, though. Of that he knew.

But that wasn't his most disturbing dream, unfortunately. The one that he had nightmares of most nights was one that Annie appeared in.

It would usually start as him escorting one of his assignments through some Capitol function, attending to her every need, smiling and flirting the whole time, although he could never see the face of the woman in his arms. He was also trying to convince himself to enjoy this time he had, but each time he tried, he couldn't get rid of the feeling that there was something wrong with this scenario and eventually, the attentions of the woman he was with no longer mattered. He would then look around, searching for someone, and he would soon see her face among a sea of faceless people.

Annie's green eyes would pierce into his soul and hit him with sorrow strong enough for his body to react in his dream state and utter out a gasp or a sob. He would sigh in relief if he was lucky enough to wake himself at that point.

If he wasn't, his dream self would try to reach out to Annie, but as she stood there just barely out of his grasp, he could never get to her, no matter how hard or fast he moved forward. If he actually did feel close enough to finally touch her, someone would always block his view at the last second. It was always the same person. And he would always try to push that person away, but then that person would speak to him.

"I'm disappointed in you, Finnick," he would say. At his voice, Finnick would look up into the face of President Snow. Once he looked at Snow's face, everything that followed seemed to happen in slow motion. Snow would turn to allow Finnick to see his loved one last time - before the pointed ends of a trident pierced into her gut. Annie's beautiful green eyes would look straight at him before turning black, the color of life slowly draining from her, and her body collapsing to the floor. At that point, he would see Snow smiling, but it was not him holding the trident. It was never Snow.

Finnick would then look to see who it was holding the trident, only to find his hands at the end of it.

That's when he would usually wake up.

Sometimes he got sick enough to where he'd run to the bathroom and vomit up whatever was in his stomach. He lost his appetite soon after, which resulted in him vomiting bile instead. A few days later, he was sick in bed, with no appetite, although his brother forced him to eat soup and some bread.

Turlach stopped working again to watch over Finnick, although Finnick would tell him not to bother.

"Well, I won't bother if you start eating," Turlach said. Finnick couldn't even try to argue with him. "Besides, how can you see her the way you are right now? She needs you."

Finnick shook his head, not knowing what to say.

"What if something happened to her while you were here feeling sorry for yourself?" Turlach pointed out in conclusion. That statement caused Finnick's heart to beat faster in a panic again and now the throbbing in his heart extended to a mild throbbing in his head.

_How could I have been so stupid? So selfish?_ Finnick wanted to slap himself truly for not even thinking of the fact that even though Annie didn't want to be with him anymore, she is still in danger here in District 4. It no longer mattered that Annie wanted him to keep away, that wasn't going to do any good to either of them if something were to happen to her just because he was feeling sorry for himself. He resolved to get better fast. That was the end of the first week.

By the end of the second week, Finnick was back to full strength. He might've recovered faster had he not kept all the windows of his house open and quietly took a "stroll" at least once during the middle of the night, passing by Mags' house to make sure there wasn't anyone suspicious coming by. He still had his nightmares, which was much the cause for him waking up to do such patrols, but there was no way he was going to let his self-pity take charge over him again. He was strong, too, he told himself. And Turlach did finally go back to working at the cannery.

One day, Turlach comes in the house with some fried fish.

"What's this?" asks Finnick.

"Our neighbor wanted to give us a reward," says Turlach.

"A reward?"

Turlach chuckles a little at Finnick's confused face. "You didn't think she didn't know you were prowling around at nights, did you?"

"Oh," says Finnick, a little surprised that Mags is still able to detect changes around her, regardless of her age. "I guess Mags knows me well enough."

Finnick notices Turlach tighten his lips, and he wonders why until a thought comes to mind.

"Wait, Annie?" asks Finnick.

"Well, both of them, I guess," corrects Turlach. Turlach looks at his little brother for a moment before continuing on. "I don't think either of them has been getting much sleep lately, to tell you the truth."

Finnick looks at him, cocking his head to the side.

"When I went to visit them a few days ago… well, let's just say that I haven't seen Mags look that tired since… Annie's father died," explains Turlach.

Finnick grimaces at the thought. "And Annie?"

When a couple of seconds pass without an explanation, Finnick looks at his brother again to see if he will actually answer him.

Turlach sighs, and says, "I know you said she doesn't want to see you anymore, but looking at her each time I go there, I don't know who's lying to whom around here. I think you should go over there… soon."

Finnick shakes his head again, scratching the space between his brows, before speaking. "I… I want to… but… what if it just makes things worse?"

"Finnick, believe me. She was never this bad when you were there for each other. _You_ never looked this bad! Look, I know something happened during the Games. I saw you on TV with those other women, but I'm your brother, and I know that isn't you, so I kind of have my own conclusion about that. But even so, I know something else happened to make you two think things are better this way…but I gotta say, it's not. She's not the same anymore, Finnick."

Finnick didn't argue with him about this either. Finnick never wanted Annie to leave him. He never wanted to believe what she was saying was a good idea. He forced himself to try to believe her reason only because he didn't want to hurt her. But now, after hearing what Turlach is saying, he definitely wants to try to make her hear his side. The thought scares him now, but if what Turlach is saying is true, he needs to try.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Mags opens the door, and upon seeing who's on the other side, has only one word to say. "Finally!"

She immediately pulls him in. He looks at her eyes and feels the guilt creep across his conscience as he looks at the now very dark circles that have obviously been there for a while now.

"I'm sorry, Mags." She waves her hand dismissively and pushes him to go upstairs already and take care of her. But before he moves an inch, he pulls his favorite mentor to him and bends over just low enough to give her the biggest hug he can allow himself to give without squeezing the life out of her, and he kisses her cheek lightly. She can't help but shake her head at him. She hands him a tray with a plate full of food and a drink, and motions him to go.

His nervousness going up the steps is replaced with even more guilt and he wonders if his heart can literally bleed from sheer emotional pain as he sees Annie's small frame sitting on the floor, near the open doors of her balcony.

Her familiar position firmly in place, she rocks back and forth, looking out the balcony. The view is different on this side of the Victor's Village compared to the view from her balcony in her own home. From this side, she can see across the waterway the land that makes up part of the Town Square. The edge of the Town Square is surrounded completely by big rocks or boulders, and the only way to get into the water is to get on one of the docks that lead to the fishing boats. It's not as picturesque as her old view from her home.

Just the sight of her looking out there reminds him of when they returned after her win from the Games, and how he sometimes saw her standing on her own balcony, looking out to where he was. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but seeing her again like this, it could've been just yesterday.

"You hungry?" asks Finnick, his voice cracking just a little.

She stops her rocking, but doesn't turn to look at him. Finnick takes a step just inside the doorway, not sure what to do at first until finally deciding to rest the tray on the little table across from the bed, keeping his hands free and preventing him from dropping the tray altogether since he can no longer feel his fingers.

"I had bad dream last night," she says. Her voice sounds hoarse and deep, as if she's strained it somehow. He's pretty sure he knows how, and he realizes that his voice probably sounds a little scratchy, too.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asks. He shivers at the thought of his recent nightmare, and wonders if it's something he can ever tell her about. Probably not.

"You died in it." Another shiver, this time going up his spine, causing goose bumps to rise all over his arms. It's too coincidental for them to have the same dream, but still, he can't help think about his dream and just switching the roles between them. "You always die in my dreams now."

Finnick pushes his palms into his eyes, rubbing away the tears threatening to come before running his hands completely through his face and sighing into them. All he wants to do right now is to run up and grab her from behind, pulling her back to his chest so he can bury his face into her neck and hair and tell her how much he misses and loves her, and beg her to come back, but he can't help think that may very well end up backfiring on him, so he makes his way to just a few feet from her and sits with her, looking out the balcony doors.

"They're just dreams," he says. He feels idiotic for saying something so naïve, but he's really at a loss for words at the moment, since he can't say what he really wants to.

From this angle, he can see her most of her face, and it's about as dreadful as he feared it to be. Her cheeks are still sunken in and the circles under her eyes have aged her about 10 years. Surprisingly enough, her hair isn't covering her face, but only because the breeze coming in from the balcony doors keep them away. By all accounts, she looks like she hasn't been feeling too well, either.

"When I wake up, I open these doors and look to see if you're out there," says Annie, nodding towards water. "Then I remember I'm not at my house anymore… sometimes I don't remember _where_ I am. Sometimes I wonder if I'm still dreaming."

She turns her head to look at him, and he can see that she has even lost color in her face, as well as her eyes. They barely glint of the beautiful green hues he's so fond of staring into. Now they are dark and hollow, almost like in his nightmares of late. Tears form wet paths down her cheeks, and he chokes back his own tears.

"Am I still dreaming, Finnick? Or are you really here?"

"I'm here, Annie," he swallows, trying to rid himself of the lump in his throat, and trying his hardest not to reach out and touch her face.

She turns her head again to face the breeze. "You say that in my dreams, too. Then I see him kill you."

"Who?" asks Finnick. The question seems to confuse Annie.

"I don't know," answers Annie, unsure. "You don't go out there anymore. I used to watch you, didn't I?"

"Yes."

"How come you aren't out there now?"

"Because… I can't," says Finnick, wondering if he should say more, or if it will be too much for her to hear. "Not without you."

Annie looks at him again, and blinks her eyes twice, then cocks her head to the side, observing him, obviously trying to figure out something, but he's not sure what.

"This isn't a dream?"

Finnick shakes his head and smiles softly at her. "No, this is real."

"It's hard to tell sometimes," says Annie. "What did I do, Finnick? Why do I feel so lost?"

She asks it as if she's just curious about her own decisions, but not in a way that sounds like she feels guilty for all that's happened the past two weeks.

"I don't know," he says. He really doesn't. The whole time he was next door feeling sorry for himself and getting himself sick, she must've been here, feeling the same thing, but obviously hasn't been able to handle it as well as he has, not that he has handled it well at all, either.

"It was Snow, wasn't it?" asks Annie, trying to remember. "It was," she says, answering her own question. Finnick can only nod.

"I can't… I can't-," she chokes. She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against her knees that she holds tightly against her chest. Finnick can't take it anymore and moves closer to her, and gently places his hand on her head.

"Can't what? Please tell me," begs Finnick.

"I thought I could do it, but I can't," she says just loud enough.

"Do what?" he moves his head close to hers, not wanting to miss a single word.

"I thought… I could… stay away from you, but it hurts. It hurts too much. When I'm dreaming, you die and it hurts. When I'm awake, I'm scared I'm dreaming and- I don't know anymore-" she says before he tries to cut her off to try to calm her. "Are you real, Finnick?"

Her head moves up to look at him, and for the first time since she distanced herself away from him, he can see a flicker of hope in her eyes, a flicker of emerald, then jade, then sea-foam green, just like his, and he nods. "I'm real. I'm here."

"Please," whispers Annie as a little bit of color flushes her cheeks. "Please hold me."

Finnick doesn't hesitate, and he's kneeling beside her, pulling her body close to him, tenderly wrapping his arms around her shoulder and back, pressing the side of her head against his chest as she's still keeping herself folded up in his embrace. He places his cheek against the top of her head. "I'm here."

"I can hear your heartbeat. You really are here."

"Yes." He remembers back to when she sought comfort in him on that train ride during her Victory Tour. Even then, he cared about her, but back then he still thought of himself as just 'mentor' to her 'tribute.' It still amazes him when he thinks about how she took precedence in his life since then. Did he ever think he would fall in love with anyone, let alone Annie Cresta? When he thought about it, no. Because of what he was forced to do for Snow, he never felt it as an option for him to find real love. Yet, he did. "Annie-,"

"I love you," says Annie, promptly cutting off his admission for his love for her. He chuckles softly.

"I love you, too."

"But I'm scared. What if he-"

"Shh, we'll figure it out. We don't have to be apart, Annie," he whispers, adjusting himself so that his lips are almost touching her ear before he continues. "Don't let Snow do this to us. He's done enough damage in both our lives already. Don't let him break us, because that means he wins. We can't let him win."

Annie shakes her head just slightly, "I'm scared, Finnick. I'm so scared."

He moves so that he can face her now and he place his hands on either side of her face.

"Me too," admits Finnick. "But I have never been more scared than these past two weeks when you weren't with me. We need to be strong for each other, understand? We need to. We'll find a way through this, I promise."

"You can't promise that."

"I promise that we'll get through this, but you have to promise to stay with me, okay, Annie? Please. _Please_."

She touches his cheek with her free hand, finally nodding. "I promise."

He can see that she's still terrified of what will come of this by her shaking body, but considering how things have been lately, he can no longer risk being away from her, even if she's just next door. It would be downright perilous, physically and emotionally for both of them, more so for Annie, and he would only blame himself in the end.

Annie's agreement allows him to exhale in relief and he pulls her slowly to gently, sweetly press his lips against hers. Her lips feel dry, but she responds back to his kiss with her own and it feels like right to be this close to her again. She must feel it to, because he feels her fingers run down the side of his face, remembering the shape and structure of his cheeks down to his jaw and neck. They fall deeper into their kiss before breaking just to breathe, their hands still holding to each other's face. He moves to touch her forehead with his.

"I love you, Annie. I promise we'll get through this." He says it as a declaration of truth that she has to believe, and even though she might not fully believe in it, he believes in it. He has to.

* * *

><p><strong>End Notes for Chapter:<strong>  
>Sorry if some of you don't like long chapters, but I couldn't split this one and more words kept coming! Besides, I'll be going camping for the entire week next week and I'm not sure if I'll be able to post another chapter until the following week (yikes, I know!). Anyway, have a great Memorial Day weekend, for those that celebrate it, that is.<p> 


	23. Chapter 23

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**CHAPTER TIMELINE: Sometime after the 74**__**th**__** Hunger Games (Katniss & Peeta's Games) and before the Victory Tour. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Annie returns to her house and finds something there she thought was lost. She contemplates her relationship with Finnick as well. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mr. Cresta  
><strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T. **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 23: Returning Home<p>

Annie hadn't stepped into her house since she moved into Finnick's house the year prior, after her father had died. She didn't tell Finnick she was going to visit, but it wasn't like she realized it herself, and now that he was spending time accompanying his brother to town for work almost every day, she had some time alone.

Well, not necessarily. If Finnick knew she was walking alone, he probably wouldn't be happy, but she didn't want to bother Mags, who had fallen asleep on the sofa after coming over in the early hours of the day. At least she had enough sense to leave a note for Mags so as not to worry her.

But now she wishes Mags was there with her as she steps up the stairs to her bedroom. It's odd to her how the house seems so dark even though there's plenty of light coming in the windows from outside. It is a rather nice day and inside the house is seems warm with all the light being let in through the windows, but for some reason she shudders. It's cold. Or she's cold. She can't tell which is which.

Annie's heart beats rapidly and she feels its inconsistency like splattering rain on a window. As she works her way up the steps, she hears the creaks of the stairs and tries to remember if that sound was always there when she and her father were living there. Once she arrives at the top of the stairs, her hands are shaking and she takes a step forward just to avoid falling backwards and down the stairs. She can feel the panic about to set in, but tries to concentrate solely on breathing for a minute. Why did she come here alone, she gripes to herself.

A few moments later, she finds herself in her father's old room. She doesn't remember the last time she stepped foot in there, either. She always felt it was her father's private space, so she never allowed herself in it before, but now, being that the house is the hollow shell of what used to be her home, she doesn't feel that sense that she's intruding on someone's privacy any longer. It is so odd to her now that even though there are things in there that belonged to her father, the room doesn't feel like her father's room at all anymore. Even though she didn't enter it when she was living there, she was always able to see in it, because her father only had the door closed when he needed to change clothes. Even at night, he kept the door ajar as he told her he would so he can be sure to hear her if she was having a particularly bad dream. Now the room looks and feels unfamiliar. It doesn't smell the same either. The air is stale and the scent of what she now realizes was her father no longer exists.

This place is nothing anymore.

She notices something on the top of the five-drawer dresser in her father's room and moves to get a clearer view of it. As she moves closer, the item reflects a little bit of color with the light of the sun peering through the window, and realizes it's a shell, with iridescent shades of blue, green, pink, and yellow merging beautifully together and around the shell. There is a long cord looped through the top of the shell so that it can be worn as a necklace. Annie has never seen her father wear this, though, and realizes that it was probably her mother's necklace. A keepsake that she never knew her father had. It just lay there on the dresser as a piece of a room that served no one's purpose.

Annie closes her eyes to try to recall a memory of her mother with the necklace, but she can barely remember what he mother looked like anymore. She closes her eyes tighter to no avail, and huffs in frustration.

She tries again to recall anything about her mother, and finally a memory does come to her.

"_Mommy's gone, Annie."_

"_I know."_

_Annie's father tried to hug her as he sat down next to her in the little wooden bench that decorated the hall of their little house, but she moved away from his touch and stood up, her back to him, her arms folded tight against her chest. She didn't want her dad. She wanted her mom. Her father must've known, because he didn't attempt to hug her again. They didn't talk for a long minute, and they didn't move either. _

"_Annie," her father finally said. She didn't budge. "Annie, mommy wanted you to have this." _

_Annie turned her head just enough to see what her father was talking about. She first looked at his face, and then looked down to what he was holding in his hand. It was a necklace with a single shell attached to it. It had a shimmer to it when light hit it, with hints of different colors. She wanted to be in awe of it, but she was still upset. She had lost her mother, after all, and a pretty little shell necklace wasn't going to replace her. _

"_Do you want it?" her father asked. Annie just shook her head and turned away again. "It was your mom's. She wanted you to keep it-"_

"_NO! I don't want your stupid, ugly necklace! I want mommy!" _

_With that, she ran out of the house, planning to never return… _

Annie grabs hold of her father's dresser as she wills away the pain in her chest at the memory.

"I'm sorry."

Her father kept the necklace all these years, of course. She had not known what happened to it since that day, but she never saw it again until now. Thoughts of the last time she saw her dad alive come rushing in.

_She held him as he lay on the floor of her bedroom, his breathing shallow. She was badly beaten, but she didn't feel any of her own pain. It was her father who was dying now, and she didn't know what to do. So she just held him. _

"_I'm sorry." Her voice trembled. _

"_No, sweetheart. I'm sorry. I'm sorry… for ever… leaving you there. I should've… never left… you there in that place. If I… wasn't such a coward… then you would've… never had to deal with…" He squeezed her hand tight as he tried to breathe through his pain._

"_Don't, dad. Please just stay with me. It'll be okay. You have to stay with me." The blood didn't stop flowing out of him, though. And within minutes, her father was gone. The wound in her father's side was too deep and in that moment it almost seemed like the knife pierced into her, too. "No. Don't leave me. Don't… please…" _

"Annie?"

"Don't leave me," she whispers. _Forgive me._

"What are you doing here?"

Annie opens her eyes, looking around, not focusing on anything in particular. She doesn't remember where exactly she is anymore. She is sitting on the floor, her back against the end of a bed. _Focus._ Her father's bed. In her house. The light in the room seems brighter and she tries to remember what brought her to this place, so she closes her eyes, but once she does, the face of her attacker appears, first attacking her, then her father-

"No! Dad!" Annie's eyes open wide, searching frantically for her father. Hands hold her steady and at first she wants to pull away from them, until she realizes it's Finnick's voice.

"Annie," he says in an urgent, but firm tone. "Look at me."

Annie's eyes immediately move in the direction of his voice, searching his face, then his eyes. Her eyes water at the sight of him. "Finnick."

He moves one of his hands to cup her cheek while using the other to push some of her hair out of her face and behind her shoulder before cupping her other cheek. Annie's heart is racing and it takes a few seconds before she can relax in his hold.

She finally places her hands over his and Finnick pulls her face close to kiss her forehead before pulling her head against his chest.

"What happened? What are you doing here?"

For a brief moment, a fear that Finnick might get mad at her comes across her mind, but she's not sure what else to say. Actually, she's still not sure what brought her there, either.

"I don't know. I… I didn't… I'm sorry…"

"Shh, it's okay. It's okay. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving."

She wants to tell him that she wasn't talking to him about not leaving, but she's not ready to explain all of what she was remembering just yet. So, she doesn't say anything. She just allows herself to be comforted in his arms.

Later that day, Finnick finally brings the subject up again as to why she was alone in her home, the one place both of them thought she could never go into again.

"I really don't know why I went there. I wasn't planning on it," she says as they walk along the shore in the late afternoon as they often do to watch the sun set. To Annie, watching the changing colors in the sky never seems to get old, even during the coldest of days, because sometimes that's when the most amazing sunsets occur. It didn't matter how cold it was though, because Finnick would always make be sure to keep her warm, even at the expense of him getting a little chill during those cold days.

Finnick stops her from moving forward and he plops himself on the sand, pulling her down in front of him, wrapping his arms around her as she leans back into him. He plants a soft kiss on her shoulder before resting his chin there. She can't help but smile at the gesture. Just his touch sends a warmth through her, but when his lips touch hers, it's like she remembers who exactly she is and where she belongs and nothing can break her. Even if he kisses her on her shoulder, or her neck, or her forehead, she still feels at least a part of that, and however brief Finnick's kiss is, it always feels right. She always feels whole.

"You cold?" He rubs his hands up and down the sides of her arms before clasping them with hers. "So, can you tell me what happened this morning?"

She knows he's trying to be sensitive about her breakdown earlier, as if he's afraid that she'll have another breakdown if she recalls what it was that she imagined. She wants to tell him, though. She wants him to understand as much about that night as possible. The night she was attacked. The night her father died. She steels herself, taking a couple of deep breaths before speaking.

"I don't know why I went there. But I guess I missed my dad, and my mom, too. I just didn't know it until I was there." Annie explains the memories that she had that morning, pausing every once in a while to keep from choking up while recalling everything that had happened including the necklace and her mom's death, as well as her dad's death, although trying not to get into the details of the attack on her or who the attacker was. Finnick listens, waiting patiently when Annie pauses, and sometimes kissing her neck or her shoulder again, which calms her down. She feels him stiffen a little when she briefly talks about the moment she was attacked, but she squeezes his hands, reassuring him that she's okay. When she finishes, he doesn't say anything immediately after, giving Annie a little sense of worry.

"How do you feel about it now?" asks Finnick.

Annie turns her body around a bit to face him more easily. "It hurts, Finnick. Part of me knows I shouldn't have gone there, because, you know, of how I would… and part of me is proud for being able to go there and deal with it, I think."

Finnick is quiet again for a minute, and they just look ahead at the horizon.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" Annie is confused.

"I should've gone with you at least. I know that my going with Turlach into town lately probably bothers you-"

"No, Finnick. You _should_ spend time with your brother. I can't expect you to be with me everywhere every second of the day."

"But I want to."

"But you shouldn't have to. I know I scare you sometimes. I scare myself sometimes, well, maybe a lot of times… but your brother is part of your life, too."

"And you shouldn't have to face these things on your own." Finnick adjusts himself to look at Annie more face-to-face, and she adjusts herself again, too. "You remember how I promised you that I would get us through this, through our problems?" Annie nods. "And I asked you to promise me you'd stay with me?" She nods again, shyly this time. "Do you still promise that?"

She looks at him, and understands what he's getting at. She went into that house alone, unguarded from anyone, even herself. Many things could've happened, and even though nothing major really happened, the thought still lingers that something could have.

"I do, Finnick. I'm sorry. I'll try harder." She touches his cheek with her fingertips, but she's the one to shiver at the connection. As if on instinct, Finnick reaches up and behind him to grab at the collar of his shirt, pulls it up and over him to remove it, and swiftly drapes it around her shoulders.

She has seen Finnick shirtless many times before and she has definitely glanced at his bare chest before, but only for the briefest of moments. This time, though, her eyes linger a little longer at him, and she can't help but put her palm up against the area where his heart is. She notices his skin react to her touch and is stunned a little by it.

"Annie?"

"Hm?"

"Annie," whispers Finnick, and he tilts her head with his finger to look up at his face.

Annie blinks a couple of times, clearing her head. When she sees his eyes, she notices something in them that she didn't notice before, either because she really didn't pay attention or because this is the first time that look is there. She can see concern, confusion, longing, and love, but there's also something else, and it takes her a moment to realize what it is, but when she does, it takes her back a bit. She thinks she should be scared, because she's seen in that look before. It was never a good thing, too, when she saw it. It practically disgusted her. The look of lust.

That look always dominated whenever she dared to stare into Garcen's eyes, which was hardly ever unless he forced her to. But she didn't want to think about him, especially not now, while she was practically wrapped up in Finnick's arms and body in a way that shielded and protected her.

Even though Finnick did have that small amount of lust in his eyes, the combination of it with all the other emotions swirling in them makes her feel not only loved, but desired as well. It makes her feel good in a way she had never felt before.

She averts her eyes, embarrassed at her own thoughts, and looks down to where her palm still lay, right on his chest. "Sorry," she mumbles as she pulls her hand away. But Finnick is quick and grabs her hand to pull it up to his lips, gently kissing her fingertips. A breath escapes her.

"Don't be," he mutters through her fingers.

Her heart beats a little faster and her breaths become shallow as her nerves get the better of her. Before she can stop herself from voicing her thoughts, she says, "You really are beautiful."

His eyes shift to her in surprise for a moment, and he pulls her even closer to him before brushing light kisses over her cheeks, then eyes, then forehead. "That's what_ I'm _supposed to say to you," he says before placing the softest and sweetest of kisses against her lips.

"But you are," she says with an airy voice as his lips trail kisses down her neck. Her breaths are a combination of light and heavy and her fingers run through the fine hair on the back of his neck. She can feel him shiver now at her touch and she smiles in knowing she has that affect on him. Even though they have kissed many times before, she always seems to act like it's the first time she's ever felt his touch and vice versa. Or maybe that she always experiences something new about their connection. But this is definitely something more than their previous kisses. She can feel it swirling around in her gut, a warm, tingling feeling.

Her actions somehow seem to urge him on, and his hands slowly run up and down her back, pushing his shirt off her back, then they slide down to the side of her legs, gripping at her thighs and pulling them closer to him. She doesn't want this feeling to end, but suddenly as his kisses become less gentle and more passionate and his hands feel more aggressive on her skin, especially as they return to her back, this time under her shirt, rubbing circles on her skin with his palms, the warm, tingling feeling she had only moments ago is replaced with uneasiness. A sense of discomfort creeps into her chest, and she stiffens. "Finnick…" she croaks.

He stops immediately and pulls away from her, looking at her face. "Oh… sorry. I… uh… I didn't mean to- sorry." He sighs in exasperation, and looks away in what she recognizes as the face of shame. Before he is able to push himself away from Annie, she stops his movements by tightening her arms around his waist and resting her head against his chest, effectively leaning her body against his and keeping him in place.

"Don't leave me."

At first, Finnick doesn't move a muscle, but his arms slowly respond by closing in around her back and she feels him press his lips to the top of her head. "I won't leave you. I'm just sorry for…"

"I love you, Finnick."

Nothing is said for a mere five seconds, but time slows enough for her to take in everything around them. She can hear the sound of the waves crash, a bird's call in the distance, and the thump of Finnick's heart against her ear. She can smell someone's fish cooking from one of the victor's house, the sand, and Finnick's familiar aroma that is a combination of sea water, sage, and his person. She can see the orange hue of the sky, the flecks of sand that shimmer in the remaining light, and Finnick's hint of stubble on his jaw. It's seems so surreal how much she's able to take in that she wants laugh.

"I love you so much, Annie. I love you so much it's scary. Maybe too much…"

Then she does laugh. She doesn't realize it, but she does laugh.

If it was anyone other than Finnick, that person might've been upset at that moment. The rudeness of her interruption with laughter during such a heartrending confession - but luckily it's not another person. It is Finnick, and he's neither sad nor angry about it. Instead, he actually laughs with her.

He pulls away from her and cups her face in his hands to see into her eyes, and smiles as she finally gazes at him after her laughter fades. "You have a beautiful laugh and a beautiful smile. _You_ are the one who's beautiful."

She clears her head of all of everything that surrounds them and focuses on his words. What made him say that, she wonders, somewhat hazy to the fact that she said it first only a few minutes ago. And she absent-mindedly looks down again to his chest, suddenly surprised to find her hand there again, right where it was before, right over his heart.

Before she can say anything, Finnick pushes himself up off the sand and holds out his hand to her. She holds onto him and he pulls her up, then bends down to grab his shirt and shakes off the sand from it.

"C'mon, it's getting dark and it's cold." He reaches for her hand, lacing his fingers with hers as they walk back toward his house.

"Aren't you going to put your shirt back on?"

Annie notices the smirk on his face. "Mmm, not yet."

"Why not?" she asks. "I thought you said you were cold."

"Well, I'm not that cold. Besides, how often is it that the woman I love tells me that I'm beautiful when I take my shirt off?" His smirk is even more prominent now as he glances her way. Her mind clear now, she takes the bait and plays along.

"You? Beautiful? What woman in her right mind would ever tell you such a thing? She's obviously completely insane." She says it as a joke, but Finnick comes to a dead stop, pulling Annie back to face him. At first, she's afraid that he'll be upset at her for even joking about such a thing. But his look is contemplative.

"Not completely." He pushes Annie's hair back behind her ears with both hands. "But maybe a little."

"Only a little?"

"Well, she would have to be to use the word 'beautiful' on a guy, don't you think?"

She looks at him questioningly. "What word should a girl use to prevent herself from being called 'a little insane'?"

Finnick turns her around and puts his around her shoulders as she puts hers around his waist. "Hmm… well, there's 'handsome' for one, or 'gorgeous,' or 'stunning.'"

"I see. Well, what if she likes the word 'beautiful' because if fits who you are both inside and out? Is she still a little insane?" Finnick stops short again, and Annie turns to face him. "What if she doesn't mind being a little insane if that's what it took for you to accept the compliment?"

Annie places a hand around the back of his neck to pull his face close to hers while she tiptoes to meet his lips with hers. She's lost in the moment and he picks her up by her waist, lifting her off the ground so that she's now eye level with him as they continue their kiss. It's electrifying and Annie swears she can feel his heart beat with hers, however impossible that may be. She _is_ a little insane, after all.

Being lifted off the ground, the sensation of floating is even more empowering and she can't help but imagine that nothing else exists but her and him and the sound of the water crashing around them as if they're surrounded by the sea, never touching, but protecting them from everything. It's wonderful.

When they finally break for air, she's still in his grasp, looking down on him now, and she brings her forehead down to touch his, breathing in his scent.

"Well, she would have to be insane to love me, and as long as she loves me, I can handle a little insanity. I can be beautiful for her, and she can be beautiful for me."

Annie smiles, her eyes glowing bright with adoration for the man holding her. "She does. She loves you more than anything."

"I love her." He kisses her again, softly, but with that same electrifying feeling that she felt before. "I love you, my little insane, beautiful woman."

**x~~~~~~~x**

She lay on her bed for almost two hours now and she can't get her mind to stop thinking. She keeps going back to that moment on the beach when their kissing turned from a feel-good moment to a panic-filled moment for her. She stopped him before anything really happened. They were at the beach anyway, and he probably would've stopped himself soon enough, but where his hands were roaming, she felt the panic inside her and called him on it.

Sure, Finnick was embarrassed by his own actions, and sure, he stopped immediately when she said his name, so obviously, he was conscious of what he was doing. It wasn't like he was drunk, or mean, or spiteful. He isn't Garcen. Definitely not. Finnick is everything Garcen isn't. So, she couldn't understand why she felt as uncomfortable with Finnick as she did with Garcen at that moment. It wasn't the same. His touch didn't feel the same at all. Finnick, has aggressive as he was getting, was nowhere near calloused or brutal as Garcen had been in her encounters with him. So why did her body and mind act like he was?

Even now, as she's thinking about it, the feeling of unease goes through her again. Annie knows she won't be able to sleep at all if she doesn't deal with this now. So she gets up and walks towards Finnick's room. She knows he's probably only half asleep anyway.

"Finnick?"

Even in the dark, she can see his eyes open. Finnick moves to turn on the light next to his bed.

"Can't sleep?" _Of course he would know that_, she thinks. If it was a nightmare, he would be by her side, in her bedroom.

"Not really." She's completely dressed, with long flannel pants and a long-sleeved top, but she feels somehow naked, unprepared. This is the first time she's actually come to _him_, and stood by _his_ door. "Can I come in?" She asks meekly.

Although Finnick makes a face she's not familiar with, he gestures her to come in. He sits up on his bed, moving a little to give Annie space to sit down as well. When she does, she sits sideways on the bed, one foot on the floor, the other folded in underneath her, and faces him. She's close enough to him that he reaches out and grazes her cheek with the back of his hand.

She looks at him, trying to figure out how to start what she wants to say.

"What's wrong?"

She's not even sure what she wants to say. But she has to say something. Anything.

"I love you."

Something flickers in his eyes, and he smiles lightly. "I love you, too, Annie." He grabs hold of her hand. "But?"

"I don't know. What happened earlier today…" she pauses, seeing Finnick pursing his lips and releasing her hand to rub the back of his neck.

"Annie, I'm really sorry about that. I shouldn't have done that."

"I know you didn't mean to. That… isn't supposed to make me feel uncomfortable, I know. I just got scared. Maybe because I was at my house before that, and… it brought back some bad memories. I just… I don't want you to think it's because of you, I guess. It's not like anything happened. You didn't… _do_ anything bad to me."

"But things did happen to you, Annie. I know that." He moves in a little closer to speak more softly. "I of all people know what it's like to be… used."

Annie looks away, shuddering. She's never spoken to anyone about this before and having Finnick talk about it to her, as if she already told him all about her past with Garcen - she feels shame wash over her now. Tears threaten to come, but she shuts her eyes, willing them away.

"But I never told you anything." She hears him sigh and shift a little more.

"You didn't have to. There were… times, the way you acted about certain things. I know it's not something people like to talk about… even me. I didn't have to tell you about me, but you knew."

She turns her head slightly in his direction, and nods.

"But what if… what if I don't… can't… be with you? In that way, I mean."

"Annie-"

"No, I mean it. What if we get married or something and I… I can't do _it_? What if I'm… too broken?" Annie's voice trembles at her words and the tears that she tried to hold back finally make their escape, falling down her cheeks.

Finnick moves closer to her side, and somehow she finds herself comforted in his arms, leaning her back against his chest, her hands hanging onto the arm holding her to him. She feels his lips press against her temple.

"Shhh, please don't cry. Remember my promise? Remember what I said about getting through this? I meant it. I meant it for everything, Annie." He presses his lips against her temple again, keeping it there for a while as he rocks her gently.

When she finally stops crying, she sits herself up, but close to him. His thumbs sweep across her cheeks to wipe the last of her tears away. She looks up at him and sees that his face is stained with tears as well, and she wipes his away with her hands.

"See," he says with a sad smile. "We can get through this together."

She still feels a little defeated about the whole thing. "Finnick-"

"Hey," he says, preventing her from expressing more of her doubts. He firmly, but gently, places a hand on her shoulder. "Annie, no matter what you say, no matter how many times you tell me how broken you are, or that all you'll ever want to do is kiss for the rest of our lives – I'm not going anywhere without you."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what."

Annie looks at him, really looks at him, and realizes that he means it. And with that, a weight is lifted off her and the corners of her mouth turn up. She lets out a light chuckle, leaning her head to the hand that moved from her shoulder to her face.

"So, even if we were to kiss and not do anything else for the rest of our lives?"

He nods without hesitation.

"Is that really all you would want to do?"

Finnick laughs a little uncomfortably.

"Well, um, if you really want me to be honest, Annie, no, of course not. If I were to spend the rest of my life with you, I would want to show you how much I do love you and I'm not sure that even a multitude of kisses can show you that. But seriously, I would _never_ force you to do anything you didn't want to. Okay?"

She nods, thankful for Finnick knowing when to end the topic of conversation where she realized she shouldn't have even started.

"See, you really are beautiful," she confesses.

She can tell through his eyes that he's blushing now.

"And handsome," he replies back to shake off the embarrassment.

"And gorgeous, too?"

Finnick shrugs. "Well, if you say so."

Annie giggles, and it makes Finnick laugh in response.

Once their laughter dies down, Finnick asks, "So, how do you feel now?"

She smiles. "Better." She sighs in relief, then a yawn escapes her mouth.

"You think you'll be able to sleep?"

She chews on her bottom lip, unsure of herself.

"What is it?" asks Finnick.

"I'm sorry to ask this, especially after what we were just talking about, but… can I sleep here?"

"Oh, with me?" he asks, seemingly looking a little awkward about it. Annie nods.

"It's just that, with what happened this morning at the house. I just have a feeling that-"

Finnick apparently knows where she's going with her statement and the awkward look is replaced with complete understanding and concern for her. "C'mere."

She crawls into the bed and lies down on her side, facing away from him. Finnick turns the lamp light off on his side and then she feels his arm drape over her waist and she moves back just a bit to feel the warmth of his chest. She feels safe here.

"Is this okay?" he asks her.

"Mmhmm," nodding her assent as well. After a minute of silence, she turns her head back towards him so she can be heard. "Finnick?"

"Yes?"

"I really don't plan on doing this every night."

He chuckles softly. "I know."

"I just feel that-"

"I know. I'll take care of you," he says. She turns her head back.

"Bad dreams."

"I know."

"I shouldn't have gone to the house."

"It's okay," he assures her with a chaste kiss to the back of her head. "Just promise you'll try not to go there alone again, okay? Or anywhere else alone."

"Okay," she says.

She closes her eyes, and sure enough the bad dreams are there. But they leave just as fast as she hears a whisper, a murmur, a voice that calms her and erases the images of evil and sadness away from her mind. She can feel his words lulling her back to sleep and the safety of something warm and comforting holding her close. She holds on to it, to him, and falls into a peaceful slumber for the rest of the night.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie opens her eyes to see the sun well up into the sky and she looks at the clock on the opposite side of the bed. It's 10am, quite a bit later than she normally wakes. Of course, she's usually up earlier because she hardly ever gets a good night's sleep. But she did last night.

She remembers telling Finnick that she wouldn't make this a nightly habit, her sleeping in the same bed as him. But after her one nightmare was quickly pushed out of her mind with what she can only presume were his voice and his arms protecting her even in her sleep, she's starting to reconsider. She laughs to herself, and then realizes that she's alone in the bed.

Of course he's up. It's 10am. Finnick would've already come back from walking with Turlach to town.

Annie stretches and gets out of bed and although she can smell food cooking below, she hops in the shower to warm herself up from the cold morning. When she finally makes her way downstairs, Finnick already has a plate ready for her.

He smiles playfully at her. "Good morning."

"Good morning," she says with a smile of her own.

"Sleep okay?"

Annie nods. "Thank you," she says and walks over to him and gives him as tight a hug as she can. She feels him kiss to top of her head.

"C'mon. Sit and eat."

They both sit and eat together, something that hasn't been done in a while ever since they came back from the most recent Hunger Games, basically because of Finnick's walks with his brother in the morning, and even sometimes in the afternoon when Turlach returns to eat lunch at home. She never questioned it when Finnick started spending more time with his brother, and actually found it endearing, but she knows there's more to their walks together than Finnick or Turlach would ever let on, especially to her. She knows they're planning something, but even she would rather not know until Finnick is ready to tell her. She has a feeling that it has something to do with what happened during the last Games, and his promise to her, that they would get through "this," whatever "this" is.

"I have something for you," says Finnick, as Annie finishes the last amount of her hot chocolate.

"You do?" He nods, then looks around nervously, avoiding her eyes. "What?"

"Well, I'm actually not sure you want it, but if you don't, I can always put it back."

"What is it?" she asks curiously. She notices the lump in his throat move up and down as he gulps.

"Please don't me upset, okay? Like I said, I can always put it back."

"What is it?" she asks again, this time with a little more urgency.

He pulls out his closed hand over the table and slowly opens it to place the item in front of her. The iridescence the shell had the morning before is even more colorful and brighter now, probably because Finnick had cleaned it, she believes. Her mother's gift to her. The necklace that she once thought lost years ago now lies before her and she can't help but cry tears of joy at the sight of such a beautiful item.

"Oh Finnick."

"So I take it you want it?"

She nods. "Yes, yes! Thank you, Finnick. Thank you for getting it."

"Are you sure? Because if not, I think I saw some kelp on the beach that matches your eyes perfectly," says Finnick, his eyes smiling playfully again. She laughs, pushing him in the shoulder feebly.

"This is perfect," says Annie as she holds it up in the light. Finnick gets up and stands behind her, taking the necklace from her hands, untying the knot from the cord, and placing it around her neck so that the shell hangs just below her collarbone line, before tying a new knot.

Finnick comes around to face her again, sitting back on his seat diagonally from her. "Beautiful, just like you."

"Thank you, Finnick." She reaches over to kiss him and his lips meet hers. When she breaks from their kiss, she looks straight into his eyes and sees contentment in them. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **

You'll probably be tired of me apologizing for something or rather about each of my chapters. This time, it's because I'm still trying to get back into the swing of things after spending a week camping at Yosemite. I will TRY to get another chapter in seeing as I didn't post one last week, but I'm not making an promises! I'm not as confident as Finnick. ;-)


	24. Chapter 24

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place a little before and during the Victory Tour of the 74**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick has conversations with Annie, Turlach and Haymitch on separate occasions. I won't say more, so you'll just have to read. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Haymitch Abernathy, Turlach Odair*, Bruma*  
>* =OC<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 24: Revelations<p>

Finnick opens his eyes to see the dark, wavy tresses of hair splayed out on the pillow next to him. Annie had come in during the middle of the night, obviously after another unsettling bad dream. He would've gone to her, but this routine was becoming a regular occurrence ever since she asked him to sleep on his bed a month ago. Nothing happens, though. At least nothing more than his protective arm around her person, and maybe a chaste kiss or two in comfort. After confirming more about her past and the fact that she was a victim of sexual abuse, he would never presume to try anything with her without getting actual verbal consent.

Besides, he may be called at anytime by Snow to attend to some extremely influential socialite. He has been lucky enough so far to not receive any such call since they left the Capitol almost six months ago. Still, if he had been called, he knows it would probably devastate them both to try anything more intimate than kissing in the knowledge that he had just been with someone else. He couldn't do that to Annie. He won't allow her to be part of his repertoire, so to speak.

If he was going to even try to get into the more physical part of a relationship with Annie, he was going to make sure he was exclusive with her. That's his plan anyway, but first he had to get out of Snow's grasp, and he and his brother were already working on a way of doing that, taking time during their walks to town often to discuss how exactly that was going to happen.

And now that he knows District 13 is still active, there is hope that they could find asylum there. At least, that's what he believes. He didn't have any proof himself of District 13 actually being occupied, and it isn't like Sapphire was one to be trusted considering he holds no particular love for any citizen of the Capitol. Still, it didn't seem that Sapphire had any reason to lie to him and their last meeting was almost sympathizing on her part. Even so, even if District 13 wasn't their haven, he still needs to get out of District 4, along with Annie, his brother, and hopefully Mags, too.

For this morning, though, he doesn't want to leave his bed just yet, what with Annie still sleeping next to him and his arm lying tenderly over her waist. He breathes in the scent of her hair, which smells lightly of sweet honeydew, which is odd, considering that he is pretty sure Annie uses the same shampoo as he does. He wonders if he just never noticed the smell of the shampoo before, then an image pops in his head of Annie bathing in a tub of fruit, and he chuckles at the thought.

"Are you laughing at me?" she says with delicate and beautiful tone that almost sounds like it belongs with the warming sunlight.

"Never, my sweet." He has to smirk at himself for using such a term to call her, but for once it sounds appropriate for him to say at that moment. "How did you sleep?"

He feels her delicate fingers lace over his own fingers of the hand that lies just across her stomach, and squeezes them slightly in acknowledgement. His sigh moves some of her hair that is directly in front of his face like a gentle breeze.

"Good. Well, after the one dream." She turns her head around as much as she can to see his face, and he lifts his head off the pillow, using his bent arm and hand to rest his head on and get a closer look at her face. "Sorry if I bothered you."

Finnick smiles at her and places a kiss against her temple. "Oh c'mon. I know you know I don't mind."

He sees the slight blushing in her cheeks and even in her eyes. It is true, though. He hasn't been one to sleep soundly through the night ever since he became a victor almost ten years ago, and just that thought alone could give him another restless night of sleep if he dwelled on it too long. But he has definitely noticed that his mind and body feel more rested on the days after Annie is asleep in his arms. Add to that the feeling of pleasant relief in waking up next to the sweetest, softest, loveliest person that he was ever acquainted with, and most likely will ever know in his life. Of that, he is sure.

"I know, but it still must be a little...," she makes an unfamiliar face. "Frustrating. You know, since you're kind of… used to that."

His chest clenches and he has to prevent himself from squeezing his hand into a tight fist, the one holding Annie's. Instead, he lets her hand go and sits up on the bed. Finnick bends his legs to place his elbows on his knees and rubs the palms of his hands against his closed eyes before running them through his hair once. He turns to look at Annie, and sees her about to get up from the bed.

"Annie, wait." She stops, barely sitting on the edge of the bed now, her head down. Finnick moves himself to her and places a hand on her shoulder as he makes himself comfortable behind her. His lips are close enough to her ear to where he can whisper. He takes a deep breath. "Annie, you're the only one that makes me feel worth something because you give me more of yourself than any of those people ever do."

Finnick grazes her cheek before cupping it to turn her face to him. His sea-foam eyes are full of light and hope and gaze unswervingly into hers, and he's sure he feels exactly what she feels - a fervent heat that courses through her whole body into her soul. "I want to be with you. Only you. I meant what I said before. I'm not leaving."

His eyes look down to her lips, drawing him closer to her, but before he is able to touch them with his own, she says, "My sweet?"

He looks back up to her eyes, confused. Then he remembers his term of endearment, now feeling a little flush of embarrassment for using it. "I know, it sounds ridiculous doesn't it?"

"It's a little funny," Annie says softly. He could feel insulted, but he doesn't. He chuckles instead, finding it amusing himself.

"Is there something else you'd want me to call you? Something less… fruity?" he asks playfully.

Annie shrugs, "'My love'? I'm not good at this."

"You know, I don't think even _that_ word would be enough to describe all that you are to me," he says, and finally dips down to kiss her soft lips.

_**x~~~~~~~x**_

Ever since that morning, Annie made it her secret goal to make herself better, to find healing somehow, so that she could feel confident enough in herself and her ability to spend a lifetime with Finnick. It took a couple of weeks, but she is finally able to pull within herself the courage she needs to open up to him about what she never thought she'd be able to talk about to another soul.

It's been a while since they've been out on the water, and Annie closes her eyes to feel the breeze on her face and hair. She had asked to go out on the boat the previous night. She wanted to make sure they were alone, so he obliged her. After Finnick anchors the boat, he places some blankets on the aft deck for them to relax on, seeing as it's a nice day although there's a slight chill in the air being that it's winter.

It takes several minutes for Annie to start talking, and it seems that Finnick knows that she wants to talk about something important and has been waiting patiently for her to start. Her fingers tap across her chin and lower lip, though, trying to find a place to start. Her mind flutters from what words to use, what sentence to form, whether she should sit up, lie down, or stand. At the moment, she is standing, slightly pacing, but only taking one step here and another step there.

"Annie," says Finnick, firmly placing both hands on her shoulders. "Relax. Whatever you want to say can be said sitting down, at the very least." He squeezes her shoulders, massaging some of the tension away from them. Annie nods and sits in her usual position.

"Victory Tour is coming," says Annie. She doesn't know why she said that, because it has nothing to do with what she wants to actually talk about, but at least she spoke, which is all she can be grateful for at the moment.

"Is that what's bothering you?" asks Finnick, a concerned look crossing his face.

Annie shakes her head. "No. I don't think so, but… Katniss. She's pretty, isn't she?"

Annie notices his concerned look turns into what she can guess as slight confusion. He smiles faintly. "Yes, I suppose she is. Why?"

"Would they make her do what you do?" Annie asks bluntly, as if she didn't hear Finnick's query. Finnick presses his lips together and shrugs.

"I don't know," says Finnick. "Maybe."

"There were two victors," says Annie, almost as a question. Finnick nods and lies down on his side, propping his upper body up on his elbow. "Why did they let both of them live?"

He looks down at Annie's fiddling hands for a moment, admiring her slender fingers as she mindlessly works her way under each nail, extracting whatever kind of residue she thinks is there.

"I guess they thought it better to have two victors instead of none," says Finnick.

"You think they love each other so much they'd rather die than live without the other?" asks Annie, wondering if Finnick believes that. Finnick lets out a laugh, lying down on his back in the process. Annie just looks at him indecisively. When he finally stops laughing, his eyes, full of light and amusement, make their way to her and he smiles.

"No, I don't think they love each other," he says.

"I think _he_ does," Annie says quietly. "Peeta. He loves her."

"Really?" asks Finnick, surprised. "Why do you think so?"

"I could see it," says Annie, her fingers making a third trip through her nails. "Just like I see it when you tell me you love me."

Finnick gently grabs one of her fiddling hands and slowly pulls her to him. She doesn't resist, but allows herself to be pulled, lying beside him with her head on his shoulder, just below the crook of his neck. She places her free hand on his chest as she feels his hands rub up and down her back, keeping her warm from the chill of the air.

"Well, I guess I can't argue with that, then, can I?" Finnick says.

"No, you can't. Peeta loves her, and you love me," Annie says. He chuckles, making Annie smile.

"And what about Katniss? Does she love Peeta?" he asks curiously.

Annie pauses for a moment before answering. She shakes her head. "I don't know," she says honestly.

"But yet, they both are victors. I guess there are people who do believe that, or else they probably wouldn't have both survived, don't you think?" he says as his hands continue to work their magic on her back.

She could fall asleep like this, in Finnick's arms comforting her, but she still hasn't gotten to the part that she really wants to discuss with him.

"Finnick?"

"Yes?"

"I was 12 when it started," says Annie, hoping that Finnick would understand what she means by 'it'. "During our Pool Days on Sundays, people would visit us at the home. He was one of them." Annie can feel Finnick's chest rise higher than usual now with each breath he takes. "At first I thought it would be really nice to have an adult friend outside of the home. I thought that maybe he could encourage my dad to come visit more. But it didn't turn out that way."

Finnick nudges her off so he can sit up and look at her, even though she's not sure she wants to look at him while she's telling her story. Instead, she keeps her head down, but she knows he's paying attention to her face and to what she has to say. There they sit face to face on the deck of his boat, his hands holding hers while he lovingly moves circles over the top of them.

"Annie-" he says, but she stops him.

"I want to tell you, Finnick. I want you to know everything about me," she says. He just nods in acceptance.

She continues to tell her story, first with her abuser's lewd words, then of his hands on her, and then the physical and emotional pain of her first time with him and how, even though she came to the nurse's office with telltale signs of abuse, they chalked it up to a tumble down the stairs and treated it as such, giving her a dose of sleep syrup after telling her to shower. Annie told him of how she tried to fight back many times after, which only seemed to make things worse for her because she would be the one punished for being so clumsy, as they called it. She told Finnick of how she finally gave up, succumbing to the fact that no one was ever going to come to her aid and she was going to have to deal with him until he or she died, or until he got tired of her, which she felt would be never.

"Then my name was called at the reaping," she says with a slight nervous laugh.

By the end of her story, both their hands were gripping each other tightly, holding onto each other for support in different ways. She for her anxiety in having to relive the tale in her head, and he for his anger in realizing the true pain Annie had gone through at the hands of some monster.

Annie didn't shed any tears while telling Finnick about her abuse, but her voice was shaky and even now her lips, as well as her whole body, tremble as she takes in stuttered breaths.

"I'm so sorry, Annie," whispers Finnick. He releases one of his hands to slowly, carefully touch her cheek with the lightest of grazes. She doesn't flinch, but she doesn't dare look at his face either. How can she when she knows that he'll be able to see the utter shame and fear in her eyes after such a confession. "Will you look at me, please?"

Annie just shakes her head no, frightened of what she'll see.

"Annie, you trusted me enough to tell me about the darkest part of your life, and I want you to see how much that means to me," says Finnick. His voice is an echo of love and sorrow at the same time, and the lure is so strong she can't help but look up to finally see his face. The tears that pour from his eyes are all that need to be shown from him to let her know how much it affects him, but it's his eyes themselves that show her the truest meaning of his love. There is too much of everything in them that his sea-foam eyes seem to swirl in an array of colors, as if each one translates to all the good emotions one can hold. It is light and dark - love and sorrow, just like in his voice. Absolute in its entirety. And it's all within him.

She closes her eyes, finding herself unable to bear the fullness of his emotions with her own. But she can still feel his touch, his hand on her cheek, and the light caress of his thumb. And all she can think of at that moment is how wonderfully soft his thumb feels.

"Thank you for telling me," he whispers, his face closer to her now. She leans into his palm.

"I needed to tell you. I need you in every part of my life, including my past," says Annie.

"So we could move forward," he adds. Annie nods as she takes in a breath. "Would you ever be able to tell me who it was?"

She swallows before answering, knowing that this could get dangerous, but also realizing that it can no longer be avoided for her sake. "I think you already know who it is, Finnick."

Finnick sighs. "And I guess you don't want me to do anything about it."

"You would die," says Annie. She could see no other way around it if Finnick were to ever confront Garcen, even if it was just to warn him to stay away from her.

"I know."

Finnick pulls her to him again, enveloping her in his arms. She places her head where it was before, just under his chin and feels the warmth of his body surround her. One of his hands strokes the back of her head down to her neck over and over again. It's as soothing to him as it is to her, she gathers. She wraps her arms around his chest in return and it feels so good to have something so strong and beautiful against her person that she now understands why it was important for her to tell him. Her secret kept her in mental bondage. Now she feels that bond breaking, because now she knows she won't shatter from it. She didn't fall into some deep chasm in the pit of her mind like she thought she might, because he's there. Finnick is there to catch her, to help her find her way back. To help mend her spirit as well as her mind. He has always been there. He was just waiting for her to realize it.

"I can't lose you now," says Annie. "I need you."

"I know. I need you, too," says Finnick. His kiss on the top of her head sends another rush of heat all the way down to her toes. "Besides, who else is going to tell you how sweet you are?"

The corners of Annie's lips curl upwards. "Is that all I am?"

He laughs lightly. "You're beautiful, just like me."

It's Annie's turn to laugh. "You're just trying to make me feel better."

Finnick pulls back to look at her in the eyes. "No, no, no," he says with mirth, pushing away some hair from her face before cupping it in his hands. "You are sweet," he says and kisses her forehead, "you are kind," he adds and places another kiss on her cheek, "and you are definitely the most beautiful person anyone will ever know… if they ever cared to pay attention," he concludes and kisses her on the lips.

He pulls away for a quick breath before Annie pulls him back to her and they share a kiss that makes them forget for the time being that they are two separate people.

_**x~~~~~~~x**_

"Maybe we won't have to escape."

"What do you mean? What's the problem?" Finnick asks his brother.

Finnick and Turlach had been discussing a way to escape from District 4 ever since Finnick, Annie, and Mags had returned from the Capitol. Finnick would take the opportunity to walk to town with his brother to plot out where and when that would happen. Turlach, for his part, would try to find the areas where the peacekeepers occupied or surveyed the least. There were issues of course, including how they would make their way through the other zones of District 4. But they knew that this was the most occupied zone, since this is also where the reaping takes place each year. They figured if they could escape this zone, the other zones won't be as difficult, although there really was no way of telling until they got there.

"It's not that. It's just that ever since the last Games, it seems that people around town are actually getting anxious," says Turlach.

"Really? How so?" asks Finnick.

"Just people talking, really. But rumor's spread that there was a riot in the district that the little girl who died was from. Is there any truth to that?" asks Turlach.

Finnick nods. "Yeah, I remember seeing it on one of the televisions at the Capitol. But it was stopped as soon as it was started, I think," explains Finnick.

"But it did happen," says Turlach, excitement in his voice. "What if somehow we were to somehow do something here. Maybe not like full-on riot, but… I know people around who are working on ideas-"

"We don't have time, though," says Finnick. "And it's too dangerous."

"Too dangerous? C'mon, Finnick," says Turlach. "You aren't the only one that wants to get away from this all. There are other people-"

"Yeah, right," scoffs Finnick. "It's not like they have to kill each other in the cannery, though. Maybe they have to work harder for more, but-"

"Finnick, you don't know what they've gone through," says Turlach. "A lot of them have lost someone they know or something they cherish. Don't pretend to know what they've been going through."

This stops Finnick, and he stares at his older brother.

"Are you seriously trying to compare them to what _I've_ been through? To what Mags or Annie have been through?" asks Finnick, his voice rising in irritation. Turlach sighs.

"Of course not, but-"

"No! I need to get Annie out of here now! I can't wait around for some plan to happen-"

"Why? Are you seriously so blinded with love that you can't see everyone else's pain? Or are you purposely ignoring everyone else's desperation to stop the Capitol's hold on us because you don't want to get involved? Because either way, Finnick, you're being completely selfish!"

Finnick's eyes widen in complete ire, and before he can stop himself, Finnick shoves him hard. Luckily, they're still a half a mile away from town and no one else is around to hear them because Finnick can't keep the volume in his voice down now.

"_Selfish?_ Are you kidding me? You're telling me that _I'm_ selfish, after all I've been through?" yells Finnick. "You're a joke, Turlach! You always were." Finnick knows he should stop, but the hurt look in Turlach's eyes for some reason just fuels Finnick to continue. "You know what, I'm glad you didn't volunteer for me, because you would've been pathetic out there. You would've gotten yourself sliced open once the canon went off to start the Games." Turlach turns his face away from him. "So, don't feel guilty for _me_ about it, but go right ahead and do your penance if you want to. Just don't include me in it, because I already played my part. I'm still playing it! Don't tell me I'm being selfish, _big_ brother!"

Finnick storms off, going back to the Victor's Village, knowing that there's no way he'll be able to talk to Turlach more about anything at the moment. He doesn't want to think about it anymore, but the walk back, with nothing else to occupy his thoughts and no one else to distract him, makes it all the more difficult. He's not sure if he can go on this escape without the help of Turlach, and he really can't let Annie in on the plan until it's time, but he has to try something.

After ten minutes of walking, he's still so irate about his argument with Turlach that he just needs some more time to calm down before he thinks more on it. And he still can't believe that Turlach told him he was being selfish. Of all the people to tell him that, Turlach was the last person he expected it from. He knows he's right, though. Those people that Turlach works with in the cannery don't know even half of what Finnick has been through, nor have they experienced any of it. They don't know what it's like to be in the arena. Sure, they might have watched a friend, or even a family member die, but to actually be in there. To experience the tragedy of death, to feel the complete guilt of killing someone, let alone a child, and living with it for the rest of your life. They can never understand that.

Then, even after all that, to be sold to people for their pleasure. Not even Turlach knows that, or at least he hasn't told Turlach directly. And he only agreed to it to _save_ Turlach, his last living relative. His blood. Now his blood has turned this whole thing around on him and decides that he wants to be brave and start a rebellion? Finnick clenches his hands into fists so tight his knuckles are white.

It doesn't matter what Turlach said, Finnick concludes. Regardless of what the rest of District 4 is planning on doing, Finnick has to find a way out. He has to for both his and Annie's sake, or they could die.

_**x~~~~~~~x**_

Finnick wouldn't have believed it if he didn't see it himself. He could actually feel the anger in the crowd. If he didn't know any better, he would've thought it was directed towards the two victors that stood before them, but after the argument with Turlach a couple of weeks ago, he now realizes that maybe Turlach was right about how the people feel about the Hunger Games and that they might actually do something about it. The peacekeepers seem to think so, too, as they try to keep the people at bay, having to beat down a few to make them understand.

Annie's grip on his hand tightens and he looks to see her. Sure enough, her eyes are wide with fear and her other hand is holding onto the shell hanging around her neck. She's mumbling something, but he can't hear her. Finnick pulls her behind him and turns to face her, holding her shoulders.

"Annie, look at me," he says, but her eyes shift off to the side now. He has a feeling he knows what or who she's looking at. When he turns in the direction she's looking, he sees Garcen. Fortunately, Garcen is too busy dealing with the irate crowd that he doesn't notice them staring at him. If he did, Finnick is sure they would've been greeted by a smug look. Finnick turns back to look at Annie and moves in close to her to whisper in her ear. "I'm here, Annie."

He pulls back and touches her cheek with his knuckles. Slowly, Annie's eyes focus on him, and she nods.

"We're done here," says Finnick. "Let's go." They leave none too soon as the crowds are cautioned to dissipate. Finnick turns back briefly to the stage and sees Haymitch looking at him. They nod at each other, and Finnick makes it a point to see him later that night.

When he finally meets up with Haymitch in the after-dinner celebration at the Justice Building, they talk just outside the door of the room in which the dancing is held to avoid being overheard by too many onlookers. There, Haymitch is able to indirectly confirm that District 13 is indeed occupied with people, but how they are able to hide is still a mystery to him. He was also able to gather from what Haymitch hinted at that many of the districts apparently reacted much like District 4 reacted during the ceremony earlier in the day.

For the first time since he had argued with his brother, he feels remorse for acting out the way he did towards him. They had not spoken much about it after their heated exchange, with the most recent conversation being a request that he and Mags watch Annie as he goes to the after-dinner dance at the Justice Building to talk to Haymitch. Even thought Finnick still wants to leave as soon as possible from District 4, to escape with Annie and Turlach and Mags, he is now willing to hear Turlach out on what the people are planning on doing to rebel.

As he promised Annie, Finnick doesn't stay long at the dance. He only wanted to get the information he could from Haymitch and see how things were going, but it's been almost an hour now and he wants to get back home to try and sort everything out.

"How's Annie?" asks Haymitch. Finnick smiles.

"She's hanging in there," says Finnick, then decides to let him in with a little hint, "it'd be nice if we could go on a… vacation, though." Haymitch looks at him for a long moment, then nods.

"Yeah, it would be nice. If only that were possible," says Haymitch.

"Yeah, if only," says Finnick quietly. "So, I guess you'd better head on back. They'll be looking for you soon enough."

"Unfortunately," says Haymitch. Finnick is about to leave, then thinks of something else.

"So, those two," says Finnick, nodding towards the dance hall. "Love really saved them, huh?"

Haymitch just smirks and raises his glass toward Finnick. "They aren't called the 'Star-crossed lovers from District 12' for nothing," says Haymitch, then chuckles a little before downing what's left in his glass.

"Bye Haymitch. Until the next Games," says Finnick, grabbing Haymitch by the shoulder, hoping Haymitch understands that he doesn't really plan on seeing him again.

"Yeah, until then," says Haymitch, giving him a look of understanding.

Finnick is now sure that things seem to be happening all around Panem, and he's not sure what to really think about it all. One thing for certain is that he needs to talk to Turlach, which he will probably do in the morning. For now, he just wants to go home and spend time with Annie.

He barely makes his way on the road that leads to Victor's Village when, on the path ahead, appears someone from the Village. Another victor named Bruma, whom he's greeted maybe once or twice before, and who lives in the house on the opposite side of Mags' house, rushes to meet him.

"Finnick," says Bruma breathlessly, obviously having run for some time. "I heard a fight from your house. Mags was crawling out of the door…" he pauses to take a breath, and Finnick grabs onto his arm, partially to keep him steady, but also to urge him to continue.

Finnick is half-panicking just hearing this much, but he can already feel the air being sucked out of his lungs. _They've found out they're trying to escape! Snow is making his attack!_

"Bruma-"

"He took her," says Bruma on an exhale. "He took her. Garcen. He took Annie."

"What? Where?"

Bruma only shakes his head. "I don't know. I'm sorry. I don't know."

* * *

><p><strong>More AN:**

Comments are welcome.


	25. Chapter 25

**_DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. _**

**_TIMELINE: Events take place during the Victory Tour of the 74th Annual Hunger Games and through several weeks after. _**

**_CHAPTER NOTES: Annie is taken by Garcen. A fight ensues. You'll have to read the rest to find out what happens. _**

**_CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Turlach Odair*, Garcen*, Bruma*, Pearce*  
>* =OC<em>**

**_ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T – Drama/Romance/Angst _**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter 25: The Sick and the Twisted<span>

Finnick didn't have time to think about what happened, or how, with Turlach and Mags around, Garcen was able to take his Annie. He didn't dare allow himself to feel guilty about leaving her, either. Self-pity isn't going to do anything to rescue Annie. He will deal with all that later, but now, all his focus is on finding Annie and dealing with Garcen one last time, no matter what it took.

Heat courses through his body as his fury consume him. Droplets of sweat appear on the sides of his face, but he doesn't notice them at all. On any normal day, they would've made him itch until he wiped them away. But this was no longer any normal day, and he wondered in the briefest of seconds if there would be another normal day in his life.

The problem with his anger and his uncontrolled desire to kill Garcen was that it made it hard for him to think rationally. Well, it made it hard for him to think, period. Where would he take Annie to keep her safe? Where would he take her that they wouldn't be able to find her? Where?

All he keeps thinking about is the look on her face. How when she gazed at him, a certain gleam would flit through her eyes at the moment he smiled at her. It would happen so fast that sometimes he wondered if he even saw it, but after so many occasions, he finally convinced himself that it was real, and it was only for him. Like a gift of a part of her soul. And he captured it with the stillness of his heart every time. For that brief moment, he wouldn't dare breathe until that gleam hid back behind her eyes.

That gleam… her face. Her smile. Sometimes her smile would accompany that gleam, and sometimes it would show up when he held her close to him. During days where all they did was walk side by side across the shoreline, he would catch a glimpse of her profile, and he would see the corner of her mouth curl up, as if she knew he was sneaking a peek at her and she seemed to enjoy it. They wouldn't even say anything, but she would smile like that anyway.

One time, he woke up to her calling his name, almost whispering it. He almost thought it was a dream, and when he opened his eyes, he saw that gleam in her eyes and the soft faint smile, and in that instant accepted it only as a dream because she just seemed so beautiful, so ethereal at that moment. It wasn't until she lightly pressed her lips to his that he realized how wonderfully real it was.

Now as her face flickers in his mind, the images of her change from one of utter happiness to one of consuming despair. Unfortunately, there are many images of her with that look as well, probably more than the former. Her indifference after being called in the reaping, her confusion being called as a victor and being pulled from the arena, her many times of anguish and fear, during her breakdown as mentor, after her father's death, and most recently, her time being held captive by Snow.

Those images now crowd his mind. Those are the faces of Annie he imagines now at the thought of her being taken by Garcen. Those are the images that fuel his rage, that tear into his chest and dwell in there, waiting to explode at any second.

"Where?" he says out loud.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie can't think straight. Memories in her head mix in with the events of the past half hour. It's today, it's last year, it's 5 years ago, but she's having a hard time knowing which is which. Garcen looks the same. Drunk, angry, sadistic. He smells rancid, too, and she tries not to breathe it in, but she gags anyway.

She also feels the same as she did when she was 12-years-old. Meek, scared, defeated. Two words repeat in her head over and over again, and she's still trying to make sense of it. _Not again._ She feels herself being dragged, but is having a hard time trying to resist, what with one of his hands squeezing her tightly around her waist like a vice and his other gripping even tighter around her wrist. She wants to scream, but in the whirl of memories in her head, one sticks out quite fresh in her mind. "You scream, you die," Garcen had said to her after knocking out Turlach and shoving down Mags. So, she whimpered and allowed herself to be pulled away from the safety of the place she called her own. Finnick's home.

Surprisingly, he didn't take her far, but not like she could tell one way or the other. If Garcen had taken her all the way to the borders of their district, she doubt she would have been able to tell the time difference of that to the two minutes it took for him to drag her to the house across the green. The Village was oddly darker than usual that evening and to Annie it seems eerily quiet. She wonders for just a brief moment if Turlach and Mags are already dead. And if Finnick is dead, too.

Annie could feel herself letting go of all cognizance, and she isn't sure if she wants to fight it, being that she's with Garcen. _Not again._ Still, something in the back of her mind is telling her not to give up. The memories of her past with Garcen play out again. Images of him hitting her or grabbing her or worse. A whimper escapes out of her mouth.

"Shut up!" Garcen snaps back in an angry murmur, slamming the door behind him before dragging Annie up the stairs to where he tried to have his way with her the last time. "We have some unfinished business to attend to." His cackle echoes through the empty house, and sends shivers through every inch of her being.

_Not again. _

As they get to her former room, he pushes her inside and she barely has a chance to turn around to face him when the full force of his slap across her face whips her head sideways. The shock comes before the pain, and she can't help but feel surprised at it even though she's experienced this before from the Head Peacekeeper.

She gasps at the painful grip of his hand on the back of her neck, and is forced to face him. Garcen's breath is in her face, and she can't help but breathe it all in as she's still gasping for air from the slap. She can almost taste the bile reeking from deep within his throat and she would gag if Garcen wasn't holding her neck so tight.

"That's for your father, but since he's not here to receive it, you'll have to do," he sneers. "That little scratch he gave me last year took a while to heal, but as you can see, I'm all better now."

The memory of her father lying dead on the floor enters her thoughts. She remembers the blood seeping out of him, just as the life in his eyes dulled and he stopped breathing. She chokes back a sob at the memory, which makes Garcen laugh.

"Awww, poor baby," he says contemptuously. The hand that was previously on the back of her neck slides to the front of her neck, forcing her face closer to his. "Don't be sad. I can make you feel better." His lips crush violently against hers and she tries to push against his chest with her hands, but his other arm wraps around her waist and pulls her body right up against his. She can't help but wonder how someone's breath can smell so unbelievably vile. She instinctively slaps the side of his head. Hard.

The sudden reaction prompts Garcen to bite down on her bottom lip, breaking the skin, before he pulls away from her. He shakes his head slightly, stunned at the force of a slap from someone much smaller than himself, but his recovery time is quicker, despite being excessively drunk. "You whore!"

Emotional pain always lingers long after it's been introduced, however, she has a hard time imagining that she will forget the pain of being hit in the face with a closed fist anytime soon. She doesn't remember ever being hit in the face like this before, and a new fear creeps into her psyche.

His punch literally knocks her to the floor this time, and before she has time to get up, Garcen is already on top of her, straddling her waist. This time she sees his fist, and it's almost as if it's coming to her in slow motion. As if she can count in seconds how long it will take for his white knuckles to come into contact with her face, and as slow as it seems, her hands are even slower in blocking it. The pain from the first punch is compounded with the second one. When the third one hits her, she wonders if she has reached her pain threshold because she can't feel it anymore, or if she is now dead and she is just reliving the nightmare of being beaten to death.

She hears a moan and is confused as to where it's coming from until she's forced to focus on Garcen's face as he pulls at her chin. Somehow the image of him looks distorted and her mouth feels odd. She doesn't even realize she's now laughing until she feels the pain in her chest. _Oh, I'm not dead_, she thinks to herself.

"You like that, huh?" Garcen's voice is husky and spiteful. He practically puts all his weight on top of her, and he's nowhere near light. "You like me beating your pretty little face?" She can't smell him anymore, and is attentive enough to be thankful for that respite. His fingers roughly stroke the side of her face, and she moans in pain at the touch. A part of her thinks she would rather he punches her again instead.

_Not again._

Annie doesn't notice the hot tears flowing, but she feels them trickling down one side of her face, eventually falling into her disheveled hair. Garcen is ecstatic at the result of his force on her and he shows her just how much by kissing her roughly, shoving his tongue into her mouth and squeezing her chest with his forceful hands to the point that she screams in pain, only to be muffled by his slobbery and foul-tasting maw.

No amount of struggling on her part can move him off of her. He's lost in his angry drunk lust that even if she tried to slap him again, it probably would do no good. But she tries anyway, to no avail. She even tries to scramble away, but his weight on her keeps her legs from being able to do any damage to him at all. She doesn't even bother to try to scream for help. It never came before, so why should it come now. She's 12-years-old again and hidden away in some private room in the community home.

Her one hope in all of this is that Finnick will be able to find happiness without her, because after this, she has a feeling that Garcen will be rid of her. This is his way of sending her off to her death.

She closes her eyes, wondering if death was always the only option for her since the Games, and she was only prolonging the inevitable. Will she accept it now? Should she?

A voice in her head whispers, _"I'm right here."_

She opens her eyes and Garcen is leering at her. "I knew you'd come around," he snickers.

And with all her force, she tries again to push him off of her, forcing a ragged scream to come out of her already aching throat. He budges a little, but his hands grab at her wrists and he pulls them above her head, keeping them solidly in place. Using one hand to hold her wrists, he pulls the top of her blouse, trying to ruthlessly rip it away. The moment she hears the familiar sound of cloth ripping, her eyes widen and she gasps, feeling the sheer panic of being exposed to this monster.

But before she can even scream again, an arm clutches around Garcen's neck and he is suddenly pulled off her body completely. Annie scrambles back, able to breathe fully as she crawls backward as much as possible, only stopping when she hits the wall with her back.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick didn't have any weapons with him when he entered Annie's house. If he had been thinking clearly, he might've thought it to be some kind of trap. Because what idiot would be that stupid enough to kidnap someone only to hide just a few minutes walking distance from where the kidnapping took place?

Apparently, Garcen is that idiot.

He meant to go to his house to find out more from Turlach or Mags, but since the village was oddly quiet, it was easy for him to hear the haunting scream that broke the silence. He knew exactly who it was and where it was coming from.

From his position halfway between his house and hers, he backpedaled and charged into the front door of her house. He could hear the struggles coming from her old room on the second floor, and in no time, his arm was squeezing with all his might around Garcen's neck, pulling him off and backwards, away from Annie's small, beaten frame.

"You should've left her alone," Finnick says through gritted teeth. He tightens his grip on Garcen, hoping that he can at least weaken him, but Garcen isn't making it easy, even if he is drunk.

Even with Finnick's rage empowering him, that same emotion makes it hard for him to think strategically and he leaves his left side open for Garcen's elbow to find its way to his ribs. Finnick doesn't release the grip he has around Garcen's neck, but it hurts him enough that when the second blow to the same spot comes, he yelps, and loosens it even more.

With that advantage, Garcen is able to pull out of his grasp. Regardless of the alcohol still coursing through him, Garcen is alert and even smirks a little at Finnick. Finnick knows that this is Garcen's opportunity to finally be able to kill him. He knows that no one will be able to question Garcen's reasoning for it now. And that's if anyone else bothers to investigate.

Garcen hurdles toward him, crashing into Finnick's chest with his shoulder and effectively pushing him against the wall by the bedroom door.

Even though Finnick is taller than Garcen, it would be foolish to underestimate Garcen's strength, and being hurled to the wall just reminds him of that. Finnick feels Garcen's fist hit him in the same spot where he was elbowed. Then again. Garcen swings in for another punch, but Finnick blocks it just in time with his left arm and immediately pulls Garcen's shoulders down, getting him in a bent-over position and knees him in the gut. Garcen groans and steps back a few feet.

"I was wondering if you'd show up at all. Wasn't sure if you'd be able to figure out where we'd be… and I really wanted you to come watch," croaks Garcen. He makes a guttural laugh that is so full of haughtiness that it only fuels Finnick's hatred of the man.

Finnick glances to the far wall where Annie crouches against. He can see one of her eyes is swollen shut and her lip bleeding. Her hair is matted and tangled all around and on her tear soaked face. The sight of her in that state makes his stomach churn violently, and it takes every ounce of effort on his part not to run straight to her and hold her in his arms until all the pain is gone.

The one thing that keeps him from doing that is the seething rage erupting inside of him, ready to end Garcen however he can. He moves toward the head peacekeeper, ready to tackle him, choke him, and watch the life drain out of him as he takes his last breath.

"That's going to be the last time you _ever_ touch her!" shouts Finnick. With that, he lunges toward Garcen like a madman.

Garcen is ready and before Finnick reaches him, he pulls out his baton. Finnick does see it, but for some reason, he doesn't stop. He doesn't care if the baton hits him. He doesn't care if he's within an inch of his life at this very moment. As long as he's able to take Garcen down with him to the afterlife, then he'll be fine. Annie will be fine. But his body defies him and he crumples to the floor when the baton connects with his side. Finnick hears a crack of a bone, or was that the creaking of wood? He's not sure.

"I think you're wrong on that, Odair. I think I _will_ be touching her again. And again. I'm going to make her _like_ it," hisses Garcen, emphasizing the word 'like'. "And when I'm done with her, I'll be sure to send her your way."

Garcen hovers above Finnick's bent form and right when Finnick tries to get up, he feels the crushing blow of the baton on his back, then his shoulder, then his side again, hearing another crack. He hears Annie screaming.

Through all the blows, the only thing that really hurts him to realize is not his death, not even Annie's death, but the fact that he couldn't stop it. He couldn't stop Annie's suffering any more than he could stop the waves of the ocean from crashing. All this time, he thought he was helping, but he was only delaying the inevitable.

He turns his face slightly to peer at Garcen through the corner of his eye, only to feel Garcen's spittle on his face. He doesn't bother to wipe it off. There's no point.

He surmises how easy it will be for Garcen to turn this story around to his advantage. To make it seem that Garcen was protecting Annie from him and to force her to agree to that story by threatening to kill Mags and Turlach, unless they were dead already. It would all make sense to the other Peacekeepers. He doesn't believe anyone would challenge him.

He can't hear what Garcen is saying, although he sees Garcen's mouth moving, telling him something. It's nothing important, though. What he does hear is the sound of her cries. Of her whimpers. He thinks he can even hear his name being whispered. Then he feels another blow before he blacks out.

**x~~~~~~~x**

"Finnick."

At first the voice sounds so far away that he wonders if he's dreaming. No, he should be dead.

The realization that he's not dreaming, or dead, comes when the pain rushes into the back of his head. And it's not just the back of his head, but everywhere. He tries to groan, but even that hurts.

"Finnick," the voice says. It sounds just as rough as he feels. "We have to get out of here."

When he finally dares to open his eyes, there is nothing but blackness. He blinks a few more times and finally notices some light, which is coming from the window. Moonlight. He also notices a stick lying next to him. Garcen's baton.

"Finnick, get up," he suddenly realizes the voice is actually right above him, and it's literally pulling his arm. He turns his stinging head to look at the face.

"Turlach."

Turlach pulls on his arm again and Finnick finally, slowly sits up. "What happened?"

"Not right now. We have to go," says Turlach. Finnick recalls the moments before he blacked out and realizes that Garcen was close to killing him.

"Where's Garcen?" Finnick asks urgently, a slight hint of panic in his tone.

Turlach shakes his head. "He's dead. C'mon. We can't stay here."

Finnick's eyes widen, but upon Turlach's insistent pull on his arm and his weakened state, he agrees that maybe now is not the time for all the questions to be answered. But when he finally gets up, he sees the large body of Head Peacekeeper Garcen flat on the floor.

His body partially covers the path that leads from the door of the bedroom to the balcony doors, narrowed by the bed in the center of the room. If one were to look from the neck down, that person would think that Garcen was merely sleeping off a hangover; his Peacekeeper uniform soiled from dirt and grime and liquor, untucked and unbuttoned. One piece of evidence that could construe a struggle was that of him holding a knife.

Finnick looks at where Garcen's face should be and is met with something very familiar to him. The three prongs are buried deep into Garcen's face at an odd angle, right through one of his eyes, although the neither eye can be seen anymore because of all the blood. He tries to remember, but he's having a hard time piecing things together. What happened? Did I bring my trident? How did Turlach get here? Where is Annie?

"Annie!" he says loudly, only to grab at his side from the sharp jab of pain.

"She's right here," Turlach says gravelly, and he pulls Finnick around to see Annie leaning against the wall near the door. Her face is hiding behind a tangle of hair, and she's staring straight again of her, gazing at nothing in particular. Her hands are folded up against her chest and her fingers scratch at her collarbone.

Finnick walks as fast as his damaged body can move to her side and he whispers to her. "Annie? It's me," he says softly, grazing her arm. She stiffens slightly, but doesn't retreat.

Her eyes stay unfocused, and he can see she's muttering something, but he can't hear her.

"C'mon, let's get out of here first," urges Turlach, squeezing Finnick's arm.

Finnick moves closer to Annie, close enough for him to whisper in her ear. "We have to go, Annie."

His fingers close around one of her hands, and even though she doesn't acknowledge him, even though her eyes stare into nothing, he knows some part deep inside her mind hears him and trusts him, because she allows herself to be led by his hand.

It's a slow, but rushed process, walking down the steps of Annie's house, across the green, back to his home. To their home. Finnick wants to do more for Annie, to carry her even, but his own body is still throbbing from the beating he received, and he's pretty sure his broken ribs won't be too happy with him either. Even his focus is hazy, and he has to rely on his older brother for support and direction.

When they get to Finnick's house, Bruma is there tending to Mags, who luckily only suffers from a bruised hip from when Garcen shoved her away. Bruma had her sit down on the sofa.

Finnick finds it odd that all of a sudden another victor decides to help. More proof that people, including the victors, may be anxious for things to change, he wonders.

Misery hangs heavy in the air and despite the soft words that they exchange between each other, it feels as if there's a silence that will not go away. Only a few minutes pass, but no one registers the time ticking away. Garcen is dead. And everyone else is still alive. Finnick almost can't believe his luck.

That is, until Turlach collapses on the floor.

"Oops," mumbles Turlach.

Finnick, although weak and in pain and very tired, practically falls next to him, feeling another sharp jab on his side. "Turlach," he groans. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," grunts Turlach, then he chuckles a little. "Just a little cut."

Finnick looks down to where Turlach's eyes shift to. He wonders why on earth he didn't notice this before. Turlach's right hand is pressed firmly against his stomach, but now that they are in his lit house, he can see the blood seeping out and covering Turlach's hand. Finnick blinks and the image of Garcen's lifeless body holding the small knife in his hand flashes into his mind. The one thing he didn't notice before when he saw it now comes into play. There was blood on that knife. _Too much blood._

"No," says Finnick. He pulls away Turlach's hand from his midsection, and he blinks. "Turlach, what happened?"

Turlach takes a breath. Then he takes another, his chest heaving in the effort. Finnick helps him lie down where he fell, in the space between the kitchen and the living room.

"I didn't see the knife," Turlach chuckles again, then curses at the pain his action gives him. "Wow that hurt."

"We have to get you to the med-" says Finnick, but Turlach stops him.

"No," croaks Turlach, shaking his head. Finnick can't be sure, but he thinks Turlach's eyes are glistening. _Wait._ "I don't think… it's okay. I'd rather stay here."

For some reason, Finnick feels his chest tighten. "But you need a doctor-"

"No. Not anymore. I need to stay here," Turlach says, closing his eyes, "with you, little brother."

Finnick turns his head to those that are around him, and he finds Mags' face. Ever the stoic mother figure, she has made her way to them, slowly kneeling by Turlach's head. Mags can't hold her emotional strength up and he notices the tears brimming in her eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"Mags, we have to do something," says Finnick. But Mags just looks at him sorrowfully and shakes her head, mumbling something about being too late. The tears escape her eyes, but he turns his head to look back at his brother.

"No, you can do this, Turlach," Finnick says vehemently. And he tries to pull Turlach up by his arm, just like Turlach did for him back at Annie's house. "C'mon, you're stronger than this!"

But Turlach doesn't budge and only groans in pain at Finnick's pull. "Stop, Finnick. Stop," he says weakly. "I can't… It's better this way." He takes a shallow breath. "They'll need someone to blame for Garcen." He takes another. "They'll want someone to pay for it." He blinks between heavy lidded eyes. "It's my turn." _Wait._

"Never again," whispers Annie through her swollen mouth, sitting on the sofa, her legs folded up against her chest with her arms wrapped around them tightly.

Finnick swallows to get rid of a lump in his throat, but it stays there. "Turlach… hey, big brother. We were supposed to get out of here, remember? We had a plan, right?"

Turlach nods. "I'm sure you… can do it without me," he utters. "Listen-"

"No, I need you. I need your help-"

"Okay, but listen…" says Turlach.

_His voice sounds different_, thinks Finnick. _Why?_

"What?" he asks quietly. _And why won't this lump go away? _

"This… isn't your fault, okay? And mom, dad, that's not your fault. Remember that. I should've told you when I realized how you felt-"

"It doesn't matter…"

Turlach shakes his head slightly and his eyes widen, and Finnick notices how dark and wet they are from tears. He doesn't remember ever seeing Turlach cry before.

"I shouldn't have let you hold onto that pain. Finnick…" Turlach takes a breath before he says his final words, "I love you, little brother." He takes one more shallow breath, and then his body goes limp.

The only movement that can be seen from Turlach in the seconds after are the tears that finally break away from the corners of his open eyes.

Finnick blinks. "Turlach?" He doesn't realize he has been holding Turlach's hand until now as he feels Turlach's bloody fingers slowly release their grip on him. He shakes him, refusing to let go. "Turlach? Turlach!" _Wait. Please wait._ Finnick calls his name again and again, but in his heart, he already knows. He sees it in the blackness of his eyes and in the lifelessness of his gaze.

Finnick isn't sure what to do now. Should he let go of his hand? Should he close his eyes? Should he clean up the blood? Should he go comfort someone? Mags? Annie? Should he cry?

Bruma is standing there, keeping a safe distance away from them, his face full of sadness, concern, and something else. Frustration? Bewilderment? A sudden need to occupy himself? Maybe he should ask him for help.

Maybe he can help him do something about his broken ribs or the pounding in his head, or ask him for a cup of water to get rid of the lump in his throat. Yes, that would be a good idea. Maybe later.

But for now, he just sits there, waiting.

**x~~~~~~~x**

The Peacekeepers found Garcen the day after he was killed, but oddly enough, the Peacekeeper in charge didn't question any of them further after it was explained to him that Turlach and Garcen got into a heated exchange that just went overboard.

There were no questions as to why this fight occurred in Annie's home. No mention of Finnick's trident, which was actually never retrieved, being the weapon that was mercilessly embedded into Garcen's skull. Not even the obvious detrimental physical state of Finnick and Annie had been brought into the conversation.

The Peacekeeper in charge, named Pearce, which Finnick dryly thought to be a fitting name, merely smirked after Bruma, who left that night only to return an hour later, explained what had happened. No one else was really able to explain it.

Finnick hadn't been able to make out whether Pearce was actually sympathetic to them, or if he was planning on something very cruel for all of them and he was just biding his time for the perfect scenario. For all he knew, Pearce might have actually been ecstatic for being rid of Garcen so _he_ could try to get the Head Peacekeeper position.

Even if Pearce was sympathetic to them, he didn't want to take the chance of that being the case and decided that maybe he should try to seek out the others that wanted to start some kind of rebellion. He also thought maybe escaping was still a viable plan, and a part of him still wanted that, but he didn't know if he could leave anymore.

Plus, what was the point of escaping now that Annie was on what he was sure to be a permanent mental collapse.

"We're going to have to take the body, though," said Pearce, eyeing Finnick coolly. Finnick, who Bruma managed to bandage up in the early morning hours, was sitting up against the kitchen wall closest to his brother's body.

Finnick had the sudden urge to stand up to Pearce, yell at him, fight him, to show how much he detested the idea of leaving Turlach's body to them. But a voice in his head whispered him to be still, and Finnick barely had the strength to nod is compliance.

Just like that, Turlach's body was gone.

**x~~~~~~~x**

He hears her yelp, but he doesn't move. He stopped trying to jump out of his bed a week ago because Mags had chastised him for not taking the time to heal, and she decided to house herself temporarily into his home. He still had at least one more week of recovery from his broken ribs. Besides, it wasn't as if Annie was calling for him anyway. And she hadn't tried to seek comfort in his bed since the incident three weeks ago. But he would always hear her.

Finnick tries to go back to sleep, but he knows it is futile. His mind is too awake now, wondering if she was dreaming about that night. Ever since it happened, he had been trying to piece it all together, but the problem was there were only three other people in that room. Two of them are dead now. And the third…

He's tried asking her, but it's been so hard to get her to talk about it when half the time she didn't seem to even hear him. Sometimes she would mutter words, but nothing really understandable. This was always a fear for him. That she would revert back to how she was when her father died, or when she was pulled out of the arena almost five years ago.

The other half of the time, when the haze actually left her eyes and he was there to see it, the pained expression on her battered and swollen face prevented her from wanting to utter another word. The swelling went down eventually, but then she bore the rainbow of dark colors all over one side of her face. Every time her eyes actually met his, he struggled to keep his emotions in check, willing himself not to break down in front of her and beg her to forgive him for not coming to her aid sooner, for even leaving her. He knew that wouldn't help either of them.

But she didn't look too long at him anyway. She would shake her head vehemently. Or lay down on her bed and curl up. Or cry silently. It's those times he thinks he would prefer that she not notice him at all.

"No. No!" Annie shouts. Finnick can hear Mags trying to shush her now. He closes his eyes, wishing to all of Panem that he could just hold her.

"Please," he whispers, pulling his arm over his eyes to block out the moonlight.

**x~~~~~~~x**

"Stop," she whispers. "Never again."

Annie jars herself awake, sits up, and looks around. Her arms are in front of her, her fingers spread wide to block what she dreamt was coming, but the image fades quickly and she's left with and empty room and silence.

She wants to cry, but she's too tired, both physically and emotionally. She's not sure what time it is, but she can tell it's close to dawn. It's not completely dark outside and she can see the faint lighting of the sky as she turns her head to look out the window of her room.

_Still alive_, she thinks.

"That's nice," she mumbles.

Annie is conscious of her surroundings. She wonders how long it will last this time. She lies back down on the bed, facing the window, watching the sky change colors from dark blue to light blue to soft orange to yellow. She doesn't remember ever watching a sunrise before, but it doesn't mean she hasn't. Her mind is so screwed up, and she knows it.

As the sky gets brighter and brighter, she thinks about how lovely the day is going to be, and if it's going to be warm enough to wear a skirt. Her fingers scratch at her collarbone.

She closes her eyes and decides that now is as good a time as any to try to and work through the pain of the last few weeks. Her heart pounds in her chest, knowing that doing this recollection exercise could set her back psychologically. But all her efforts have been to get her back to Finnick. Since the incident, she hasn't been able to be with him. She has hardly been able to speak to him and she knows why, but her stupid mind prevents her from staying alert for longer than several minutes before she loses herself.

Annie wants to tell him that she does hear him, but sometimes her mouth refuses to open, and when it does, it doesn't say what she wants it to say. Half the time, it's like he's a dream and his voice is there, begging her to hear him, but she ends up being lost in another haze. And she's only recently been able to break through it, but just barely.

Mags shuffles into her room, but she doesn't turn her head around toward the door. "Mags…" she mumbles and suddenly furrows her brow.

A blanket is thrown over Annie, and she realizes only then that she has been shivering.

"Like ice!" mutters Mags.

"Oops," says Annie. "Oops… oops…" Something twists in her chest.

"Shh," says Mags, rubbing Annie's arm and back over the blanket.

Annie looks out the window, wondering what happened to the day as the darkened sky tells her it's time for another restless night of sleep.

**x~~~~~~~x**

He had planned to find the people who wanted to start an uprising, but with his injuries and the almost involuntary unwillingness to be away from Annie for even a minute prevented him from going anywhere. He had a feeling that Bruma might be able to lead him in the right direction as to who to speak to, but he no longer felt compelled to do anything except wait for Annie to talk to him.

It didn't seem to matter though, because he knew something was happening, and it was without his help. He noticed the boats that usually went out first thing in the morning were still there. It started happening only a few days earlier, but as to anything else going on, he couldn't tell. Not very many people from town come to visit victors in the Village. If they did, they were relatives, and he didn't have anymore of those.

Finnick takes a deep breath and clears his throat, smiling at the woman sitting in front of him.

"I'm feeling better, by the way," he says blithely, "thanks for asking."

Annie shifts her eyes from one spot on the carpet to another. She still hasn't said a conscious word to him, but just her subtle movements, like her eyes shifting, make him hopeful. Even though Annie still carries around some slight bruising around her cheekbone, the swelling is completely gone. Luckily, nothing was broken, either.

"Want a strawberry?" he asks, holding out a perfectly ripe red one in front of her, as if to tease her with it. He gives her a flirty smirk. "They're very sweet," he takes a bite from it, vocally expressing his pleasure in the taste of it. "So sweet, yes, but not as sweet as you."

Her eyes shift to the bowl of strawberries he's holding, but her face still holds the same expressionless look.

"Ah, I can tell, you want one, don't you?" he says. "A sweet for my sweet."

She shifts her eyes down to the carpet again, and his flirtatious smirk drops from his face.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing. But they really are good. Just try one. If you don't like it, then I'll give the rest to Mags," he pleads. Her eyes slowly move to the bowl again. Finnick smiles and pulls one out.

He pulls the ottoman he's sitting on a little closer to her and then edges himself forward so he can comfortably put the strawberry right up to her lips. At first she doesn't move, but slowly, she opens her mouth to bite into the strawberry and finally chews it.

"I hear it's good with chocolate, too," he says, using a napkin to gently dap at the excess on her lips.

When he looks up, his heart stops and he feels as if time has stopped with it. For the first time since he left her to meet up with Haymitch after the Victory Tour dinner, her eyes truly connect with his. Not for just a mere second or two, but they stare right into his, as if searching for something within in. They are as beautifully green and alert as he's ever seen them, and he literally sighs in awe.

"Annie?" he says softly. But time moves forward again and she turns her head, her fingers scratching at her collarbone.

**x~~~~~~~x**

_Never again. _

That's what she remembers saying right before she plunged the trident right into Garcen's face. She wasn't even sure if it really did happen, and it took weeks for her to start remembering the details of it all. Still, regardless of whether she felt it was a nightmare or a reality, it was hard for her to ignore the heaviness in her heart everytime she thought about it, which included everytime she heard his voice.

She wonders if this is how Finnick felt all those times he felt guilty for not being there for her. _What shame we bear._

She feels it now, that heaviness, but she fights to stay cognizant. She has to, because she knows the longer she allows her mind to drift, the harder it is for her to hear his voice. Her fingers unconsciously scratch at her collarbone again, but she notices this time she pulls her arms to her sides.

"It's gone," she mumbles to herself.

Sitting on the side of her bed, she closes her eyes, and her mind again wanders back to that night. She remembers the pain, the physical pain of Garcen's fist, and the emotional pain of seeing Finnick beaten to near death. Then she remembers Turlach, coming in with weapon in hand. But it was very evident to Garcen that, although Turlach was adept with the trident, he was not a fighter.

Turlach saw Finnick's body, and instead of charging Garcen while his back was to him, he yelled at him. Garcen turned and swung his baton, knocked the trident out of his way, and laughed menacingly, berating Turlach for daring to even try to challenge him. But Turlach didn't back down. Instead, Turlach swung back with the trident, and actually knocked Garcen's baton out of his hand, surprisingly both of them.

Turlach thought he had the upper hand and charged straight on with the trident. Garcen was strong and was able to grab the stick just past the metal prongs. He shoved it far enough to one side of him and pulled it the stick to him so that Turlach was pulled as well, and Garcen lunged forward with the knife, right into Turlach's stomach.

It wasn't deep, but it was enough. Garcen pulled the knife back out as he stepped back, trying to keep himself balanced, and was about to lunge forward again for the final kill when Annie had said the last words Garcen would ever hear from her.

"Never again." She didn't care where it landed, just as long as it ended him. So, when she felt the prongs of the trident hit him, she pushed as much as she could until the trident left her hands, and she heard the loud thud of his body hit the floor…

She opens her eyes with a gasp, looking around. She looks at the clock and relaxes, seeing that only a few minutes have gone by. But the heaviness is still there, and she knows why.

"I'm sorry, Turlach," she says softly. She chokes back a sob, but a tear still falls from her eye, and she hastily wipes it away.

Going to the bathroom, she splashes her face with cold water, shocking her senses awake even more. As she wipes her face dry, she looks in the mirror and can still see just a hint of a bruise on her cheekbone. She wonders how Finnick's injuries are.

She slowly, quietly walks to Finnick's bedroom. His door is open, as it usually is. She enters and notices how empty it looks, or maybe just feels empty. The balcony doors are open and he stands there in his pajama pants, holding onto the railing and looking out. The air coming through feels warmer now than the past weeks, at least that's what she surmises.

Annie doesn't say anything, but it's obvious he hears her walking closer to him because he turns his head slightly to the side before turning it back to look out at the water.

She's at the balcony doors now, staring at his exposed back. She thinks about how he looks so strong on the outside, even with the bandages that cover one side of his torso; how he just looks like the perfect sculpture of a man. It's no wonder many women adore him. But they only see the outer beauty. She can see his inner beauty. Turlach had that same kind of beauty, she thinks.

"I remember what happened," says Annie.

Finnick stiffens at her words, but he still doesn't turn around.

"I remember everything," she says calmly.

He sighs. "It doesn't matter now," says Finnick. "Doesn't change what happened."

"It doesn't," she repeats and steps closer to him. "Finnick…"

She gingerly touches his back, feeling the heat of his body warming her chilled fingers before she places her palm flat against his back. He doesn't move, only breathes.

"Are you still here? Are you still with me?" he asks. Her chest twists painfully from the inside at the guttural sound of his words. She nods and does something that he usually does to comfort her. She wraps her arms around his waist, holding him close to her, leaning one side of her face against spot right between his shoulder blades.

"I don't want to be anywhere else. I can't be anywhere else but with you."

She feels his hand cover hers and their fingers lace together as he lets out a breath, as if exhaling for the first time in a long while.

"Good, because-" he chokes back a sob before continuing in a low, broken voice, "because you… and Mags… you two are all I have left."

When she feels his body tremble in her embrace, she wonders if he had even cried for the loss of his brother yet. _Had he been waiting for her?_

"I'm sorry, Finnick," she whispers, squeezing him a little tighter, being careful not to do so over his injury. "I'm here."

She moves their joined hands over where his heart is, feeling it beat heavy against the palm of her hand. With the side of her face still resting between his shoulders, she listens as he finally lets go and allows himself to cry, and she lets her tears fall as well, knowing that they will mourn together.

"I'm right here."

* * *

><p><strong>More AN:**

Still more to come... I do plan on going up to the Quarter Quell, but I'm not entirely sure how much of it I'm going to include.

Yes, this is the longest chapter I've written so far, but it needed to be written and I couldn't see any way of editing it down. I know I make apologies a lot about the length of the chapters or whatever, so I apologize for apologizing too much. I'll try not to. ;-)


	26. Chapter 26

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place a few months before the 75**__**th**__** Annual Hunger Games, or the third Quarter Quell.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: A rebellion is going on, and Finnick has to decide what to do. But an announcement from the President could change everything. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Bruma*  
>* =OC<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 26: The Rise and Fall of Rebellion<p>

Bruma bends down to pull out a broken shell from the sand. He brings it close to his face to examine it, turning the inside of the shell against the light, observing it's iridescence, and then nods slightly as if to show his approval of the shell before he places it inside his shorts pocket.

For 10 minutes he does this, walking along the shore of the Victor's Village beach – picking up a seashell, examining it, and then pocketing it. The sound of footsteps walking across the sand coming closer causes his head to move just slightly in the direction of the sound, but he doesn't turn around. The turn of his head was only for the benefit of the person walking towards him.

"Feeling better?" he asks.

"Getting there," replies Finnick.

Bruma turns to look at Finnick. For a 50-something year old man, Bruma still has a very young looking face, although he sports a peppered sort of hair, what with the gray mixing in with the black in equal amounts. Finnick wonders briefly if Bruma was ever sold to Capitol citizens when he was younger.

Ever since the night Turlach died, Bruma has been coming around every once in a while, merely to say hi, and every once in a while to talk to Mags. Sometimes he would bring his mother, Vangie, to keep Mags company. Neither Finnick nor Annie was up to talking much at the time, so it was that kindness that eventually got Finnick to acknowledge him as more than just an indifferent neighbor.

Two familiar females trail behind Finnick about 20 yards away, staying close together, and watching the waves.

"And her?" asks Bruma, nodding towards the charcoal-haired lady in the distance.

Finnick turns to look at Annie, watching the breeze blow her hair around her face. He can almost feel her arms around his waist, her face pressing against his back, holding him in comfort as his eyes gaze at her frame from where he stands. His love for her continues to grow with each day that passes. He could almost forget there is a world beyond the walls of his house when they're around each other. And it doesn't matter what they are doing, whether it is talking with each other, eating together, holding each other's hands, or kissing. As long as she is with him, he is perfectly content. A war could be waging right outside his door, and it wouldn't have mattered if she is by his side.

It is at that moment that Finnick realizes one thing that he always knew but never consciously acknowledged. And that is that without Annie, life beyond that would basically cease for him, whether or not it is physical is beside the point. He would be dead one way or the other. That realization brings a smile of pure contentment in having found a love that is rarely seen in the world they live in.

But also, a part of him holds an undeniable fear that his attachment to her could be dangerous to both him and her. Does she know how he feels? Would it be fair to her to need her as if his life depends on it, which it did in his mind? And what of her? Would she be able to survive without _him_, if that ever actually happened? He knows he couldn't, but could she? Looking back at all the times she's had to deal with the circumstances of her life, he has more assurance in her strength than he has of his own. And that makes him feel all the better.

"Getting there," says Finnick, this time with more confidence.

"Sorry about your brother," says Bruma. Finnick's chest tightens painfully at the mention of Turlach.

He, Annie, and Mags spent an afternoon at sea on the beach as soon as they were physically and emotionally able to pay their respects in private to Turlach. Because of Turlach being accused of Garcen's murder, Turlach's body was not only taken, but was burned. Finnick had hoped to at least get his ashes so he could respectfully spread them out in the ocean, but it never happened and it had been weeks. He supposed that was too much to hope for anyway. So, they just held a private memorial for him at sunrise.

"Thanks," is all he can mutter about it. Finnick clears his throat. "So, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Bruma picks up another shell and pockets it before looking at him again. "People have been asking about you. People in town, I mean." He fidgets a little before continuing. "I guess they're curious to know what you plan on doing. You know, now that your brother's not around. Take up the cause and all. Turlach said he didn't want you involved, but he didn't explain why," says Bruma, and then he looks past Finnick's shoulder to Annie and Mags. "But I'm pretty sure I know the reason. I'm sure everyone knows the reason."

Finnick just looks at him, a little puzzled. Bruma decides to explain everything, right there on the beach. Apparently, he didn't feel it necessary to speak in any code or whisper it in secret, but still he keeps his voice low.

During the weeks that Finnick had been in recovery, people in the district had already set a plan for revolt, and with the arrival of Katniss and Peeta, along with the news soon after about Turlach being killed and accused of attacking Annie – an accusation that no one who knew Turlach believed – and killing Garcen, those events set the revolt into action. Somehow it had been known that other districts were also in rebellion and they knew at that time it was the best moment to act on it.

So, with their anger fueling them and the amount of people, not only in the main town, but in other zones, far outnumbering the Peacekeepers, they had done it. They had fought back in their own way and refused to work for the Capitol. At first, boats would leave the pier as usual, but they didn't bring back as much as they normally would. However, the fish, crab, shrimp, and any other food the Capitol demanded from District 4 were never packaged. When the trains came to pick up the required quota of seafood, they returned with boxes of rotting scrapes.

Word came back through secret messages that the Capitol reported the lack of seafood was caused by severe weather and raging storms. It was certainly a victory for District 4. Eventually, the citizens of the Capitol will notice. Eventually, they would see that the districts will not be slaves to their needs. That was the hope anyway. If not, well, that was just the first step for District 4. There are plans to take it further if they had to.

Finnick thinks over all the information for a few seconds. "I want to help, but I can't allow her to be involved in that, nor will I leave her again. She's been through enough," explains Finnick, nodding in the direction of where Annie and Mags are.

"I know," says Bruma. "Just thought you should know." He shrugs. "It's not like they need us anyway. I guess they were just hoping for you to take Turlach's place. Or stand in for him or something."

Finnick furrows his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Turlach didn't tell you?" asks Bruma.

"Tell me what?"

Bruma scratches his forehead. "Turlach was the one who brought up the idea. He's the one who got people talking about it."

Finnick looks at Bruma as if he just spoke another language.

"Finnick, Turlach had been orchestrating this insurgency for close to a year. And from that look on your face, I guess he didn't want you knowing about it. Or at least didn't want you getting involved," continues Bruma.

_Only because I was too stubborn to listen to him_, thinks Finnick. The pain in his chest pierces again, recalling the memory of his argument with Turlach. Knowing how much Turlach had done only adds another metaphorical dagger into his already wounded heart.

"What do they want me to do?" asks Finnick.

Bruma shrugs. "Well, not much else can be done right now. The other men who were helping pretty much have everything under control for the most part. However, if things escalate…well, not everyone knows how to fight."

That much is true. These are fisherman, after all. Still, Finnick is amazed they've been able to do this much so far. He had known something was going on during the weeks he was recovering in the house, but he hadn't known how much. What is most surprising is that during these weeks of rebellion, the Capitol actually had not done anything so far as to put down these acts.

A small tingle of fear brews in the pit of his stomach. He wonders if it's because his district hasn't done enough to anger the Capitol, which he feels is highly unlikely. He knows first-hand that even the smallest of defiance can irk the President to overwhelming consequences. Then more fear rises in the thought that President Snow is biding his time, waiting for an opportunity to strike at the right moment. What would he do to them if this continues? Would he dare destroy the whole district because of lack of crab?

No, probably not. But certainly, Snow is not going to let this continue. And will District 4 have the ability to fight back when things get worse? What about the other districts? Then another question comes into forethought. Why are the other districts rebelling as well? Of course he knows that all of them have reason to rebel because of the Games, but what brought it on?

"Why now?" asks Finnick. "This has been going on for years, and aren't people worried about what might happen if things don't go our way? I mean, it's not like the Capitol doesn't remind us each chance they get about Thirteen."

District 13, the one that fell. Or so Finnick thought until just recently.

"It just seemed like the right time, I guess. With that girl victor and her lover coming here for the Victory Tour, it just reminded everyone how the Capitol let both of them live because they threatened to kill themselves. They were going to deny the Capitol with what they wanted, and so the Capitol relented. And they did so with all eyes focused on them," says Bruma with a slight lift of his eyebrows still in surprise and a little bit of admiration of the two victors, who probably didn't know what they started in the first place. "The Capitol actually gave both of them what they wanted," he continues. "If they could do it, who's to say that a whole district, or several districts can't do the same, right?"

Finnick nods his head, but he still feels the uneasiness of this whole situation and he knows it won't go away anytime soon. But he also knows that his brother did something that Finnick himself wouldn't have dared to do, and that was to start a rebellion right here in District 4. "Okay, I'll do what I can to help."

Bruma gives him a slight smile. "I know you will. But rest easy. None of us are doing anything at the moment except taking care of ourselves. Even the Peacekeepers are leaving us alone, surprisingly. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing."

"Well, I suppose we just need to keep an eye out," says Finnick, turning his head sideways to look at Annie and Mags. Annie turns to look at him, as if she senses his eyes on her, and smiles. For that moment, all the fear and uneasiness that Finnick feels dissipates. But only for a moment. He smiles back.

"That won't be too hard for me. I've been keeping an eye out for _years_," chuckles Bruma, although there's a slight hint of sadness to that statement that Finnick understands fully.

Bruma picks up one more broken shell before walking back to where the houses are.

"What're the shells for?" asks Finnick.

"My mom. She loves shells," shrugs Bruma. "She loves making stuff with them, although she hasn't made anything in years, but she still likes collecting them."

"Thanks, by the way," says Finnick. Bruma cocks his head to one side. "For letting me know about Turlach. For helping and all."

Bruma sighs. "It's nothing. I should've done more. Honestly, we all should've done more for each other, don't you think?" He gestures at the houses alongside the shore, to where the victors live. "We stand in the sidelines watching as things go on around us, ignoring it all, acting like we've done enough and we don't need to get involved in other people's lives. But something about that kind of thinking just doesn't seem right, does it? It almost seems kind of… Capitol. You know?"

"Yeah, I do know." They give a final nod to each other before Bruma walks away and Finnick joins Annie and Mags again.

"What were you talking about?" Annie asks curiously.

"I just wanted to thank him for being a friend," says Finnick. He smiles at her, but she stares at him oddly.

"You always try to keep me safe," says Annie in a sort of rather-of-fact way.

He gives her a playful smirk, one that he usually saves for his days in the Capitol, but there's something different in his eyes. "What better way to spend my days than being protector of all things beautiful." Annie tilts her head to one side. Mags huffs and looks away, grumbling about silly boy antics. "That means you, too, my dear Mags!" Mags laughs slightly waving him off with her hand, and even though she's not looking at either of them, he knows she's blushing.

Annie places her hand on the back of his neck and pulls his face close to hers. "I see you." She places her other hand on his chest, where his heart is.

This time, his smile is serene, and his eyes follow. "I know. Because you know where you look."

A day later, Annie laughs.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie grips his hand tighter as they walk into the town square. He squeezes her hand back to give her reassurance. It's been a few months since anyone but those in the Village has seen or heard from either of them, mostly from Finnick since he did come around more often than Annie to purchase supplies and food when needed.

"Everyone's looking at us," she says, eyeing the passerby as they stare at them.

"They're astonished to see such beauty is all," he jokes, trying to ease her tension, or distract her.

"They look anxious," says Annie, ignoring his last statement. He looks around and has to agree with Annie's assessment. He knows why.

"Don't worry about them. They're probably thinking about tonight's programming," says Finnick.

There was an announcement earlier that there would be mandatory programming at seven-thirty. Finnick had not really paid attention to the television the last time there had been mandatory programming, but apparently, the District 12 victors had gotten engaged. Being that he was incapacitated and not exactly in the celebratory mood at the time, he didn't really know about it until this morning when questions of what the programming was came about.

When Finnick heard about the District 12 so-called lovers, he almost gagged at the thought. He honestly couldn't believe they were actually going to get married because he never really believed that they were in love in the first place. Even when they visited the district on their tour, he could see Katniss' fake smile from a mile away and the way she tried to smile at Peeta, her co-victor and fellow partner-in-crime at the love game. He knew Annie could see the falseness of Katniss' affection, too, but she didn't say it outright. All she said was, _"She's confused." _

Finnick had to stifle his laugh. Confused? He would've never thought that either about 'the girl on fire.' But being that Annie said it, he realized he had to believe her. Annie could see right through anyone. He could make a case for Annie being some form of scientific project from the Capitol, and that she was born with specially powered eyes that sought out people's true character. He wanted to ask Annie what she thought Katniss was confused about, but that's when the crowd started becoming irate and they had to leave.

"C'mon, we just need to get some stuff at the store and we can go back home," he says.

"Okay."

The store is where Bruma told Finnick to go if he wanted to help. Usually, it was Turlach who would go there when there was a message from outside of their district or if a message needed to go out. It was actually very dangerous and slow going as they had to make sure the message went through the right hands, and sometimes the right hands wouldn't come around for weeks. Bruma figured if Finnick could help with anything, it would be this.

When they got back home, Finnick opened the note that was hidden in a roll of toilet paper and read it three times before burning it over the kitchen stove flame.

_Dstpd. PKvrwhr. 13wtg. _

When Finnick meets with Bruma on the beach that afternoon, Bruma tightens his lips upon hearing the message, which translates roughly to this: _Districts stopped. Peacekeepers everywhere. District 13 waiting. _The full meaning being the rebelling districts have been contained and are no longer fighting. Reinforcements were brought in from the Capitol to control and purge the districts of the rebels. And District 13 hasn't made any move to help, but obviously are in the know.

"I think your brother knew that was going to happen," says Bruma.

"What do you mean?"

"He had to convince his fellow conspirators that attacking and destroying everything was only going to bring in more forces. People would be killed and punished. He almost lost the argument on that until he told them about you."

Now it is Finnick's turn to be confused.

"He told everyone that your parents were killed because you refused to be part of the President's slave convoy," says Bruma, looking down at the sand between his toes. "Is that true?"

Finnick didn't even know how Turlach had found out, but there was no use in keeping it secret from Bruma now. He nods.

"Turlach was all I had left after that, so…" he didn't complete his sentence, but Bruma understands.

"Well, after that, they all agreed to go with Turlach's plan. Luckily they did, or we would've ended up like the other districts."

"It still doesn't mean they won't come here and bring reinforcements. There's just something about them leaving us alone that's not sitting right with me," admits Finnick. He turns around, looking at the two figures standing twenty yards away, just as they did before when he last spoke with Bruma on the beach.

"I know, but maybe the other districts' acts of rebellion saved us. At least for now. Maybe they don't consider us as much of a threat."

"Maybe."

**x~~~~~~~x**

Whether or not District 4's involvement in the rebellion helped instigate such a thing from happening, they couldn't say. One thing is for sure. They didn't expect this.

President Snow had just announced the third Quarter Quell for the 75th Annual Hunger Games. This year, the male and female tributes will be reaped from the district's existing pool of victors.

All throughout the Village, screams, shouts, things breaking, and even silence can be heard. It is too much to take in and somehow things are breaking around Annie, too. First the plate that she's holding suddenly smashes against the wall. Other items follow suit. And screams of anger echo in between sobs of despair.

Even the arms that wrap around Annie do nothing to quiet the painful sounds of the wailing she hears.

"Tell them to stop," screams Annie, not even recognizing the sound of her own wail. With the arms wrapped around her, the sounds of shattering items do stop, and she can do nothing more with her hands but put them up against her ears. Still, she says it. "Stop. Stop. _STOP!"_

Finnick's soft sobs penetrate through her covered ears. "It's going to be okay," he says, repeating it over and over again. She holds onto the arm clutching her tightly over chest. His lips press against her temple, moving across her skin and hair as he repeats his words. He rocks her back and forth as they sit on the floor. Her wandering thoughts linger to how they ended up on the floor, then to why there is such a mess all around them, and finally to wanting everything to just end already.

"No, Finnick, it's not. It's not going to be okay," she says dejectedly. Still, he tells her different. He's telling himself, too, she thinks to herself. She decides that maybe it's better to be quiet and think to herself more, to just drift into that haze she's been fighting against…

Finnick's hands are on either side of her face before she can let herself get caught in the haze.

"Annie! Look at me! Don't do this, please!" begs Finnick. She shakes off the haze, startled by the directness and determination in his voice. "I need you, more than you know. Don't hide from me, please."

"I can't do it, Finnick," she says, her voice cracking. "I can't go back-"

"Listen to me," he says as he kisses her forehead before continuing, "I will try to find a way out of this, I will. But I promise you, I promise you, I _promise_ you, I _will_ be with you if that happens."

Her face breaks into more sobs, but she holds onto him. She lets her sadness overwhelm her, and lets Finnick's arms comfort her until she cries herself to sleep that night. When she wakes up, she endures it all over again. But not once does she let herself get lost in her mind. Finnick needs her, and she holds onto that truth for each and every day to come.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Later that night, the phone rings. Finnick knows what a call means. He pulls himself closer to Annie as she suffers through another nightmarish dream Annie. He calms her down with words of compassion, strokes her hair and back, and kisses her lightly on the top of her head as she lays it against his chest.

For all the times he's been with other women, even the kindest of them could not compare to half of the one he's holding in his arms now. Sure, he knows Annie is broken, having lost her mother, separated by her father, being abused by Garcen, getting thrown into the arena, and having to experience almost all of that over again. But maybe it's all of what she's gone through that makes him love her all the more. Not out of pity, but out of having similar experiences. Feelings of loss and abuse in particular aided in forming that common bond between them. It certainly isn't the ideal way to fall in love with a person, but it doesn't matter to Finnick. It happened and he will take her as she is.

He vows that from that point forward, he will never be a part of Snow's agenda. He will never make himself available to any other woman. He knows Snow may threaten him with Annie's life, but he won't allow that to happen. He will not and cannot live his life in fear of the President and his threats any longer. Turlach's death, however horrifying it was, made Finnick realize just how important it is to always remember that.

His life is his own now, and he plans on living it with Annie.

* * *

><p><strong>More AN:  
><strong>Back to an average length chapter here. I wanted to try to make it longer, but alas, I didn't want to rush the storyline and eventually become dissatisfied with it. So, here you go.

BTW, the book cover associated with this fic was drawn by **Iabri71** at the **deviantart** website. Please google it if you don't know the url. I only did the coloring. Check out her images there, as she's an amazing artist.


	27. Chapter 27

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place right after the announcement of the Quarter Quell stipulation.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: There's an uprising going on in District 4. What will Finnick do?**_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Bruma*, Pearce*  
>* =OC<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 27: To Be Safe or To Be Stupid<p>

No sooner had the announcement been made than the uprising around the district had taken a setback. Two trainloads of Peacekeepers had entered the town square of District 4 early the very next morning. Several hovercrafts full of more Peacekeepers were sent to the outlying zones as well. President Snow was making himself very clear. This uprising was not going to last very long at all now. Snow had given them a false sense of victory, and came in with more than enough Peacekeepers to fill the plaza of the town square.

The town was split between those who fought and those who hid. Unfortunately, there was no real combating plan for those in the revolt and thus the fighting, fueled by anger with not much thought or skill, was destined to be futile and short.

Because the Victor's Village was at the end of a small peninsula, two dozen of the incoming Peacekeepers had been ordered to guard the path that connected the Village to everyone else. Twelve were faced in the direction of the village. The other twelve were faced in the opposite direction to prevent anyone from trying to get to the victors. Apparently, whoever had ordered this troop had thought this an effective way to make sure the victors were kept away from the rest of the people. And it did. There were only 14 victors alive left, after all. It would only take a few seconds for the Peacekeepers to silence them all with their guns. Plus, not all the victors actually wanted to be part of the rebel cause.

The victors were ordered to stay within the village for the time being until the situation, as the Peacekeepers called it, with those who insisted on rebelling, and the seafood cargo, was resolved. Of course, Bruma, Finnick and a few other victors knew the meaning behind it. The extra Peacekeepers were there to control any citizens that decided that rioting was the best option, and to kill the ones responsible for causing such a problem for the Capitol.

Two days after the arrival of the additional Peacekeepers, it happens. An explosion louder than any previous ones, echoes in the air. And with that, in their very secluded part of the district, they know. Their little rebellion is falling.

Bruma and his mother Vangie, as well as Mags, sit in the living room of Finnick's house, looking at each other nervously. Finnick holds onto Annie as she covers her ears, trying to block out the sound.

"What was that?" asks Finnick, looking at Bruma. Bruma goes outside to check, and when he comes back, his face is somber.

"One of the buildings," he says gravely. "I think it's one of the canneries." He stares at Finnick, indicating to him something that he doesn't want to say out loud. Finnick closes his eyes in understanding. If Finnick understands Bruma correctly, the cannery that was just blown up is the one that Turlach used to work in. It would be the one building where they many of the leaders of the rebellion worked at. Somehow the Peacekeepers knew, and attacked that specific building.

Later that night, Finnick's thought go back to the escape plan that he and Turlach had been planning before. But as he contemplates the idea in his mind, the thought of escaping, especially now, doesn't seem so cut and dry anymore. Especially after all the Turlach had done to try to rally the district, and despite what had just happened earlier with the cannery, knowing that retribution against those rebels would happen very soon, Finnick knows there is something not right about just running. Despite what he said to Annie about trying to find a way out, he just couldn't find it within himself to leave these people and his district in the state it's in now. Call it stupidity, call it cowardice, call it bravery, he had to stay. Even with the eventual reaping so close at hand.

He wants to help, but he wonders how he can do so and still keep Annie safe. The thought of leaving Annie again, even though Garcen is no longer around, terrifies him to his core. Goose bumps rise on his arms and he takes a deep breath to try to relax himself.

"Annie, I told you I'd try to find a way out," he says. Annie stands in front of the closed doors of the balcony, her arms folded in front of her, as she gazes out toward the town square. There are faint glows of fire in random areas of the town.

"Yes," she replies solemnly.

Finnick sighs, his head going into his hands as he sits on the edge of his bed. "I think we'll die if we try…" he pauses, unsure how to continue.

"We'll die either way," counters Annie. He looks up at her and she's still staring out the balcony doors. "He's going to make an example of you. Of us."

"What?" asks Finnick, nervous about what Annie's going to say next.

"You defied him, didn't you?" she turns her head toward him, but her eyes stare down at his feet. She doesn't question it angrily, but more with curiosity. "You didn't go when you were supposed to. The phone rang, but you didn't answer it. You didn't go."

It always surprises Finnick how much she's able to grasp of what's going on around her at times. He wonders if she knows the things he doesn't want her to know. Like details about the uprising. About the possible deaths of those who are leading, or led, the revolt. _Does she know everything?_

"I…I know," he says grimly. "I couldn't leave you…not again." Annie finally looks up to his face, into his eyes and steps in front of him. She's close enough for him to embrace her, but his arms don't move. He just grasps the edge of the mattress as he looks up at her as she looks down at him.

"It doesn't matter what we do anymore, does it?" Annie asks rhetorically. "Either way, we always end up in pain. We always end up hurting ourselves or others. Finnick, it's getting too easy… to easy for me to block things out. I don't want to get lost, but sometimes I want to give in. To just not feel anymore."

Finnick reaches out to her, but she steps back a bit. His surprise turns into hurt and he looks away from her. "Wait," she says. "I need to say this first, and I can't if… you're holding me. You distract me sometimes." Finnick is still a little wounded by her small rejection, but he can't help but smile just barely.

"I've been selfish," she says, and Finnick looks back up at her questioningly. "I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only one that has problems. And I act like I'm the only one that's been through the Games. I mean, I know my mind plays tricks on me sometimes, and I do things that I don't even know I'm doing at the time, but there are other times when I do realize what I'm doing and I should try to stop myself, and yet I don't. I don't, because I wait… for you to help me. I wait for you to hold me and speak to me in that soothing voice of yours, telling me that you love me. And that's selfish of me. And I shouldn't be selfish, because I know that I'm not the only one that needs you."

Finnick would never consider Annie at fault for anything that she did when it came to her psyche. He knows enough about her to know that everything she's had to face ever since she was 10 years old would be more than enough reason to allow herself to be selfish, if he ever considered her as such.

"You're not selfish, Annie. Do you even know what you give me?" he smiles at her before continuing. "You give me a purpose; you give me a reason to hope for something better. You know, I thought my life was going to be just about getting by – being a paid servant to women's desires, pretending to be someone I'm not. Forgetting who I am. I wasn't sure how long I'd be doing that until people would get sick of me and toss me aside because I was too old or some other guy was better looking. I thought that would be the pinnacle of my life right there. I didn't even think love actually existed. It just seemed so unreal because of the women I had to be with. Some of the women were even married or were already with someone else, and they didn't care!"

Finnick looks up at Annie and holds his hand out to her. She slowly moves forward, and he tenderly curls his fingers around her hand, pulling her close to him. As if it is the most natural thing to do, he hold both of her hands and guides them around his neck until her arms are resting lazily on top of his shoulders and he placidly puts his arms around her waist with ease. From his seated position, he rests his head comfortably into the crook of her neck, feeling her heart beat against the side of his face. The scent of sweet fruit and lavender on her skin relaxes him and he literally sighs out loud.

"Everything about you reminds me of what love is suppose to be, Annie," he continues. "And I love that you want me to hold you, as much as I love holding you. If that makes you selfish, well, you won't hear me complain about it."

He can feel her relax and he smiles, imagining the look of peace on her face. He pulls his head back to look at her again, and her face is just as he imagined. Then she tightens her lips, and he knows there's something else she wants to say.

"What is it?"

"Finnick… I need you…"

"I need you, too," he says back.

"No. I mean… I need you…" Annie pauses and turns her head as if to look at something behind her. "I need you to help them." Where she turned her head gives him the clue of what she means. "You can help them. You know how to fight."

He shakes his head slightly. "I'm not bringing you into that."

"I won't be going with you," Annie says, her eyes showing something of a mixture of fear and courage at the same time. She swallows before saying her next words. "I'll stay here."

He pulls back even more, his hands now holding her at her hips. He shakes his head again. "No, I don't want to leave you alone again. It's too dangerous." As much as she tries, he can still see the pain in her eyes.

"But what about them? They need you, too. They need someone to help them. Can't you see that? They're a part of us," she says, her eyes full of sorrow for those people out there, even though she barely recognizes any one of them.

Finnick moves her back a little so he can stand. He walks toward the balcony doors, puts his hand up against the frame to lean forward a bit, and looks out at the town across the water. From here, it seems oddly quiet, knowing that out there, people are hurting, dying. He knows what she means. They are a part of them. They all live in the same place, they all grew up with the same restrictions, and even though District 4 is somewhat a little more privileged than other district, such as District 11 or District 12, they all still live in fear. They all have to deal with the Games. Still, he's one person. What can he do to help his district? He knows he's lost a lot already, and even the thought of losing Annie can bring him to his knees.

"Why are you saying this?" he asks in a low voice.

"Because… wouldn't _he_ have wanted you to?" she replies in similar tone. "He was like a brother to me, too."

The image of Turlach lying on the floor, breathing his last breath, forces a gasp out of his mouth. He moves off the doorframe and pushes both palms of his hands into his eyes, forcing the tears to stay back. So this is what it comes down to. Stay here in the confines of the village to make sure Annie's safe, or find a way to go out there in the town and risk getting killed, risk getting Annie killed, risk getting everyone killed, for the sake of seeing that the uprising his dead brother planned out would gain freedom for District 4. It is only obvious what the best option is.

He turns around to see that Annie is now sitting where he sat minutes earlier. With all humbleness, he gets down on both knees in front of her and lays his head on her lap. He knows he will never get enough of having Annie close to him, next to him, touching him.

"I love you, Annie. Promise me you'll stay safe. I can't afford to lose you because of this. Helping the people out there would mean nothing if you're not here," he says.

"I promise," she whispers. He feels her fingers run through his hair and he closes his eyes, giving himself this moment to delight in the feeling of her touch.

**x~~~~~~~x**

It only takes thirty minutes for Finnick to get to Bruma's house and explain the plan to him. Finnick's plan is to swim to the other side from their beach, since trying to fight through the two dozen Peacekeepers is pretty much suicidal. The docks are also being guarded, so they can't use the boats.

"It'll take about 15 minutes to get there," Finnick estimates, taking into consideration that he would have to make as little noise as possible, thus not going as fast as he can.

"I'm going with you," says Bruma. Finnick is about to argue with him about this, but Bruma stops him. "I'm older than you, not decrepit. I can still swim well enough. And you'll need help."

Finnick decides it's not worth trying to argue with him. Besides, he could use help, and there isn't a better way to get help than from another victor. For a brief moment, he's reminded of his temporary alliance with Districts 1 and 2 in his Games.

Finnick goes back to his house to get ready. He grabs his swim gear, and puts on his swimsuit. He knows he has to say goodbye, but he tries not to make it sound final.

"I'll need some breakfast in the morning," he says to Mags. Mags purses her lips slightly and winks at him with her good eye.

"Be safe," she says. He smiles back at her nervously as she turns away. For a moment, he thinks he sees her eyes glisten, but shifts his eyes to the person now in front of him.

Annie looks at him solemnly. He cups the side of her face and strokes the cheekbone with his thumb.

"You're right to tell me to do this," he whispers.

"I know, but it doesn't mean I'm still not selfish. I still want you to come back to me, alive and well," she whispers back to him. He smiles.

"I have every intention of coming back," he says and leans in to give her a small kiss. But after that, he realizes it wasn't enough. He pulls her up against him as he kisses her a second time, prolonging it, trying to memorize every crevice, every curve of her lips on his, searing in his mind the feel of her delicate fingers running through his hair and the scent of her sweet skin and silken hair. It's almost enough to make him change his mind and forget about everything else. Almost.

When they finally pull apart from each other, he slowly backs away from her without looking. He fears that if he looks straight into her eyes, he _will_ change his mind about the whole thing. He can only say one thing before he steps out the door into the darkness.

"I love you."

Then he's gone from her sight.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie knows that she did the right thing. She knows that no matter what he promises, sometimes those promises cannot be kept, no matter how hard the person tries. He promised he would find a way out, but it was abundantly clear to her that Finnick knew he wouldn't be able to go through with it.

Despite his reluctance, he is too much like Turlach in that way. He wants to help. That's what she loves about him. That's why she had to push him to go.

Still, it doesn't make the fear and longing in her heart any less painful. But he once told her she was strong, and she holds onto to that statement. That's what will get her through this night, and however many other nights there may be to come without him.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick and Bruma make it safely and quietly to the rocks near the dock of the town square. The smell of ash and smoke and of burning rubber and gas is strong. Even the smell of fish and shrimp, and mussels permeate the air, wafting through from the cannery building that was bombed earlier that day.

As they stealthily make their way between the back of two buildings, they realize it is eerily quiet. Whatever melee had happened earlier has now stopped. Finnick fears they might already be too late to do anything. Bruma looks at him, and jolts his head to the side, communicating to him to keep going. As they make their way closer to the square, they scope the area, looking at the aftermath.

The color and design of the Peacekeeper uniforms is unmistakable. There are several spread out throughout the perimeter, but luckily Bruma and Finnick are hidden well within an unlit area at the side of one of the buildings.

In the center of the square there are five Peacekeepers spread evenly around in a circle. Finnick knows that within that circle there are a handful of people, mostly men, tied up and sitting on the floor. Bruma nudges Finnick and indicates that they go back to the rear of the building. But just as they try to formulate a plan, another thundering explosion on the other side of the town square moves them into action.

Bruma and Finnick are again near the front of the buildings and they can see that half Peacekeepers that were guarding the perimeter of the square are now racing towards where the explosion is. Suddenly, another explosion goes off, this time near the dock. One of the fishing boats is now on fire, and more of the Peacekeepers start shouting orders as they chase after the unknown rebels that are now running in a direction away from Bruma and Finnick.

The only Peacekeepers left now are the ones surrounding the prisoners and a few others that have stayed to guard the perimeter.

Not more than a minute passes until Finnick hears gunfire from a different area of the outlying buildings, and the gunfire is directed _towards_ the remaining Peacekeepers.

_They have guns now,_ Finnick realizes.

Again, maybe out of complete bravery, or more out of just plain stupidity, Finnick launches himself towards one of the distracted Peacekeepers surrounding the prisoners, knocking him down before any of the others know what's happening, and knocks the gun out of the Peacekeeper's hand. Now it's hand to hand combat and Finnick finds himself on equal level with the Peacekeeper as the other Peacekeepers are too engrossed in their own gun fight to deal with him.

Dodging one blow, then another, Finnick manages to grab hold of one of the Peacekeeper's arms and then the other when the opponent swings at him. Finnick pulls both arms down, forcing the Peacekeeper to bend forward, and Finnick brings his knee up until it connects with the Peacekeeper's gut. He then grabs a hold of his opponent's helmet and yanks it free from his head, only to knock him out on the side of his head with said helmet.

When Finnick looks on, he realizes that the rest of the Peacekeepers have been shot down by the hidden rebels. Bruma comes running towards him with the gun that Finnick knocked out of the Peacekeeper's hands.

"That was really idiotic, you know. I thought you wanted to live to see your Annie," huffs Bruma.

For a second, Finnick feels annoyed that Bruma just reprimanded him for his actions, but then grits his teeth in knowing that Bruma is right. That was most assuredly idiotic.

Before he can apologize, Bruma chuckles. "Amazing, but idiotic."

Finnick half-heartedly smiles back, then makes quick use of the knife he brought and unties the prisoners, one of them even thanking Finnick by name.

Finnick follows the group as they make a quick getaway northeast of the square. Because of the size of the group, they have to be extra quiet as they snake their way towards the closest border of District 4, a good five miles from the square. It's also slow going being that it's the middle of the night, but luckily the moon gives them some light. Leaving District 4 this is their only option now that they've been identified by the Peacekeepers.

_How ironic_, Finnick thinks, _that this is exactly what I wanted to do with Annie, and she's not even with me. _

"The fence is wired, but there's an opening in the bottom that should be big enough, but just be careful," says one of the men.

"You knew about this?" asks Finnick.

"Yeah, your brother was the one who sent me to scope this side," the man says. But the man is barely a man, and even in the dark, Finnick can see the man cannot be any older than 17. He stares for a second longer than he should before the young man clears his throat. "You two coming?"

Both Bruma and Finnick shake their heads no.

"Well, thanks. Good luck to you, then."

The young man is the last to pass through and they watch the group through the fence for a couple of minutes to make sure they're okay. When they see the young man enter some thick trees and disappear altogether, Finnick sighs in relief.

"Do they even know where they're going?" asks Finnick.

"I don't think it matters to them at this point," replies Bruma. "C'mon, we need to get out of here. The Peacekeepers will be on the hunt now."

Finnick nods and they both turn around to head back, only to find quite a few guns pointed in their direction. Bruma curses under his breath.

"You should've stayed in the village," says a voice that Finnick hadn't heard since his brother's body was taken away.

It was the voice of Head Peacekeeper Pearce. And it sounded absolutely vile.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Hey all! I will be at Comic-Con next week, so I won't be able to update on the chapter on Thursday. If I can, I will try to post a short chapter before Comic-Con starts, but please don't count on it! Sometimes R/L issues take priority, as you all know.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this read and comments are always welcome. :)


	28. Chapter 28a

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place right after the uprising in District 4.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Annie tries to find Finnick.**_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Annie Cresta, Mags **_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 28a: Just dreams<p>

Annie jerks herself awake for the second time that night. It doesn't take long for the feel of someone's touch on her arm, and then on the side of her head. For a moment, she thinks it's him, but as her mind frees itself from the depths of slumber, she notices the little things. The uneven footsteps, the sound of the breathing, the irregular movements of the touches on her.

Mags moves some of Annie's hair away from her face as she smiles. Annie can barely see her in the dark, but she knows Mags is making an effort to curl up the side of her lips that isn't paralyzed. She can also see how very tired Mags is.

"Mags," Annie says groggily, her voice scratchy from restless sleeping and groaning in the night.

Annie wonders if things are going to be worse for her now that Finnick is not there.

_Finnick, can you hear me? _

"You don't have to do this, Mags," she says quietly, "they're just dreams."

But Mags only grunts her refusal to accept that. "Nonsense," she mutters, then pats Annie's hand. "Back to sleep."

Annie turns to her side and hugs the pillow closer to her face. His scent is still there even though it's been days since his head last rested on it. It smells of an uncommon mixture of sweet fruit and seawater. But it's what she's come to recognize as part of Finnick.

_Finnick, I'm still here._ _I'm not going anywhere. Can you hear me?_

"Finnick…"

"Don't you worry. He's just fine. You'll see," assures Mags while patting Annie's hand again.

The problem is that they don't know when exactly they would be able to "see." The night that Bruma and Finnick had left, Annie stayed up because she couldn't sleep. She wasn't expecting him to come back right away, but knowing that he was out there risking his life to save others, to join in the uprising, her mind couldn't rest at all.

It wasn't until three days later when they were finally allowed to leave the confines of the village and go into the town. Neither Finnick nor Bruma had returned yet. Annie practically ran to the path that led to the town, but before she could leave, one of the Peacekeeper guards stopped them.

"Just a warning to you all. It was your people that brought this on yourselves. So, don't be surprised at what you see there," the Peacekeeper said, then snickered when some of the victors passed him by, scowling their discontent.

Even before Annie arrived there, she smelled it in the air and sensed the grief in the atmosphere of what she was about to be faced with. The air reeked of ash and smoke and scorched metal. But that wasn't the most distressing odor of all. It was the stench of burning flesh that overwhelmed people's senses, so much that Annie could feel the bile rising from within her stomach. When she finally arrived there, being one of the first from the Victor's Village to do so, it was as if everything sounded muffled all of a sudden, and the thumping of her heart beat loud and rapid up through her spine right to her ears and pounded away. She heard what she thought were mournful moans or sobs, but didn't wonder about where the sounds were coming from. She knew why those sounds were there. She knew because she saw what was purposefully placed in the center of the square.

Dead bodies were lined up in rows, more than a few dozen of them. Some of them were beaten to death, some hanged, but many were shot. It was as if the Peacekeepers didn't have time to torture the rest of them, or because they had caught a huge group of them at one time. But no one had thought it was because the Peacekeepers were feeling sympathetic and were merely trying to make the rebels' deaths as fast and painless as possible, because for the most part, they weren't.

Had she known it was her that was sobbing and moaning, she might've thought to stop herself, to not give the Peacekeepers more reason to snicker and laugh at her; but her mind was not focused on trying to maintain any kind of composure. Her thoughts were on who she might find within the rows of the dead lying there on public display. Her thoughts were on how she would find Finnick if he was in one of those rows.

For the split second after time she had to turn a body over to see the face, Finnick's face came staring back at her. Each and every time, she would see his face. It was only for a split second, and then the true features of that unknown lifeless man broke through. And each time it happened, she was never able to prepare herself and she would gasp, feeling the barrier of her mental strength break down little by little.

Ten minutes later, Mags arrived and was on the search as well, shuffling through row after row of the dead. Annie barely noticed her, or a few others who were doing the same thing. Searching. Some of the other townspeople searched for their own loved ones; upon finding them, they crouched over them or held them up in their arms, and mourned. The cries were the only things heard that morning. Even the Peacekeepers finally let the people do their grieving.

Annie had gone through the rows over and over again for an hour before Mags finally tugged on her arm. But it wasn't enough to stop her at first. Annie just kept going, mumbling to herself about not seeing his face, and what it means, and then going over it in her head that maybe she forgot what he looked like, detailing specific aspects of his face.

"Hair, light, then dark, then light again, like sea and sand and gold. Eyes as green as leaves and waves – no, like foam and grass…foam and grass. Face…strong cheeks, straight nose, long neck. Lips… lips… soft and… and…" she stopped briefly touched her own lips before her hand moved down and scratched at her clavicle. Mags touched her arm again, and Annie finally looked at Mags in the eyes before she turned her head from one side, then the other, letting her eyes roam the bodies lying around her a bit before they focused back on Mags. Annie laughed in shallow relief. "He's not here."

"He's not here," she says impassively, almost like she did that day at the town square, as if all emotion has already been drained from her. Mags doesn't respond, just sighs and pats Annie's hand again before rubbing her arm in comfort.

_I can see you. I dream about you. It feels good to dream about you, but for some reason I can't stay asleep and I wake up, and you're not there. And sometimes I wish for the nightmares to come back again. Maybe if they do… maybe if they come back, you'll be here with me. _

The image of Finnick disappears from her mind, and she laughs forlornly, pushing her face deeper into the pillow that holds his scent, mumbling words into it, as if it's actually him that she's holding. As if she's whispering her loving words into his ear. But her words are useless now, because he can't hear her, and she knows it. The kisses she imagines giving him are empty, because he can't feel it.

Annie doesn't let go of his pillow. She wonders how long it will take for the scent to disappear from it. If it will disappear long before he returns to her. If…

She feels the haze tempting her to find comfort in its emptiness. _Maybe later_, she thinks. _I should sleep now. _Annie closes her eyes again, no longer wanting to think about him, only hoping that whatever is painfully piercing her beating heart would go away.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Okay, this is actually only the first part of the chapter, hence the _a_. I thought of maybe just waiting to give you the whole chapter on Thursday, but I felt bad for not posting anything last week, so here you go. Now that Comic-Con is over I can focus more on the second part of this chapter.


	29. Chapter 28b

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place right before and during reaping day for the Quarter Quell.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick and Bruma are being held in Peacekeeper Headquarters of District 4.**_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mags, Tessa*, Bruma*, Pearce*  
>* =OC<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 28b: Just reality<p>

He thought for sure he'd be dead. Both he and Bruma had been caught helping rebels escape the district. There was no compromise in that situation. They were supposed to be executed. They should have been executed the day they were caught, maybe even at that very moment, unless the Peacekeepers wanted to make an example out of them and make it a public display. In that case, they should have been executed in the town square, along with many of the other rebels who didn't find a way out.

Instead, their lives were spared, or so they were supposed to believe. Finnick and Bruma knew better, though. They knew it was just a matter of time before they were going to be punished or executed. That part didn't make Finnick nervous. The waiting did. The not knowing when it was going to happen, that was the torturous part. He didn't know how long they were going to be kept alive and it was driving him a little crazy, he had to admit. After all, he was isolated from everyone that he cared about.

"Thirty-five," he mutters to himself, marking the number of days he's been in the cell now. He repeats it to himself as a reminder, until the next day comes. "Thirty-five days. Five weeks. A month and five days."

As he does every time he counts out the days, he thinks of Annie. He wonders what she's doing, if she's worrying about him, if she's okay. Every time he does, he can't help but wring his hands over and over again, as if it's going to help ease his worry over her. As if it's going to keep away any danger that could come to her. It's only until a Peacekeeper comes by to distract him that he stops thinking about her. Or when Bruma tries to communicate with him.

"You know why they haven't killed us yet, don't you?" says Bruma. Even though they're in adjacent cells, the wall between them muffles the sound quite a bit, but Finnick hears him clearly enough.

The cells remind Finnick of the one that Annie was held in at the Capitol when Snow held her under his watch. That time seemed so long ago now. So much has happened since then, what with the uprisings and Turlach's death. And now this. Being held prisoner, for thirty-five days so far.

The walls of the cell are the same monotone color, bare and unappealing. His cell seems just as clean as the one she was in; of course, it's not like these cells were hardly ever used. Most people avoided getting into trouble with the Peacekeepers for fear of pain or death more than of incarceration. Little did the Peacekeepers realize that incarceration for Finnick could be just as bad as either of those. Or maybe they did know.

"To find out the most slow and painful way to execute us?" he says in a disheartening laugh.

"C'mon. Haven't you figured it out? Don't you know what's coming up?" says Bruma.

"Thirty-five days gone…" says Finnick again, but all he can think about is Annie. The hardest part for him through all his time there is thinking about anything else, but with Bruma's urging, he tries. "What's coming up? Must be something scheduled. Must be something known. Must be… reaping."

He shakes his head, wondering how on earth he didn't realize it earlier. Of course they want to keep them alive for the reaping. Going to the arena would be the best form of torture. Sure, there's still the possibility of coming out of it the lone victor, but as proud as he was back then of winning his first time through, he would be just as miserable this time around.

"I'm going in," he says, more to himself than to Bruma.

"What?" asks Bruma.

"Me. I'm going to be called."

"You don't know that. There are still 11 other men, you know-,"

"This is why they're keeping us alive. Because of me. He wants me in," says Finnick. He says it with certainty now. President Snow is not happy with him, and this would be the best way to punish Finnick for his disobedience. Then Finnick gasps, realizing that there actually is another way to punish Finnick.

"Annie," he whispers. He wrings his hands even more now, to the point of pain, but he doesn't feel it. Maybe Bruma is saying something to him, assuring him that he doesn't know for sure. Maybe Bruma isn't saying anything at all.

Finnick unconsciously blocks all sound around him, thinking only of his Annie, and hoping that he'll be able to keep her safe in the arena that he knows she'll be called into once again. He knows without a doubt he'll be called, and Snow will try to make him choose his own life or Annie's. But even if he doesn't get called and Annie does, he'll volunteer himself if he has to.

x~~~~~~~x

"Forty-eight." He closes his eyes to get a clearer picture in his mind of Annie. He imagines her smiling at him like she's never smiled before. It's an image he hopes to one day see of her, smiling as if she never experienced the trauma of being in the arena, or being abused, or losing her mother and father. In his mind, she's holding his face in her hands, and he's brushing her dark, silky hair away from face. They look into each other's eyes, their different shades of green meeting each other, with only a few inches between them. In his mind, his lips touch hers and it feels so soft and wonderful. He can even imagine smelling her sweet scent. They wrap their arms around each other, never letting go, molding into one another perfectly like the edges of a clam shell. And everything feels so right and nothing can touch them. No one can harm them. They are unbreakable together.

"I miss you, Annie."

"You say something, Odair?" asks the Head Peacekeeper.

"None of your concern," says Finnick slyly, jogging himself out of his thoughts of Annie, and into the character he brings forth when he's trying to hide his true self. He stands up and leans against one of the walls, facing the Peacekeeper whose head appears through the small window of the door. Finnick smiles. "You keep looking at me like that, Pearce, I'm gonna think you want more from me than I'm willing to give another man. I only deal with women, you know."

Head Peacekeeper Pearce doesn't say anything nor does show any response to what Finnick was implying. "You deal with whomever he tells you to deal with," retorts Pearce indifferently.

Finnick shrugs. "Well, sometimes I do get my way," he replies haughtily.

Pearce unlocks the door and another Peacekeeper enters with his tray of food while Pearce stands at the entrance, baton in hand. Finnick just rolls his eyes at him. For some reason, Finnick knows that Pearce is only doing it for show, as if to show him and maybe even the other Peacekeeper that he's in control.

"Eat up. We need to show that our victors are still as strong as ever," says Pearce.

For a moment, Finnick isn't sure why Pearce is saying anything at all. Normally, the tray is brought in and not a word is said. But now, all of a sudden, he's being told to eat. Not only that, this is the first time anyone aside from Bruma has given the hint about the reaping.

Finnick furrows his brow, but Pearce only points to the tray with his baton. "That better all be gone by the time we come back. It wouldn't do anyone any good if they knew you were throwing away perfectly good food while they starve."

_Starve? Who're they?_ Finnick wants to ask what Pearce means, but he has a pretty good idea of who _they_ are and why they are starving. It's been forty-eight days he's been in there. If the people of District 4 have been starving that whole time, he knows more have died. He can't help but wonder if one of them is Annie.

Once the door closes, the last thing Finnick wants to do is eat, but his body complies anyway and he sets about eating everything that is on the tray.

When he bites into the bread, he notices something inside the bread, and as he pulls it out, he realizes it's a small piece of tightly rolled paper. A note. He reads it and tries to see if any Peacekeepers are within hearing range, but no one seems to be within proximity of the hallway.

"Bruma?" he says, trying not to talk too loudly for the Peacekeepers down the hall to hear him.

"Yeah, I got it. This will be interesting."

"I'd say more than interesting."

**13gtg  
>Save 12KE<strong>

It takes him a moment to decipher the message, but he's pretty sure it's evident what it means – District 13 is good to go, meaning they are now ready to take action. The second part takes a little longer, but once he remembers her name, he comes to two conclusions. One - Katniss Everdeen, the victor from District 12, needs to survive the arena. And two - he and Annie may have to die for her.

x~~~~~~~x

The door unlocks and in steps Pearce. He throws some clothes on the bed that Finnick is lying on.

"I usually trade in secrets," says Finnick teasingly, despite having just been woken up.

"Shut up," says Pearce. "They want you presentable for television."

"Sixty."

"What?"

"Sixty days. You kept us here for sixty days."

"That wasn't my call."

"You're the Head Peacekeeper! How was it _not_ your call? Why didn't you just kill us? Why did you send us that note?" Finnick doesn't know why he asked, but he could charge it on his frustration at not knowing what has been happening with the district or with Annie.

"I said shut it!" says Pearce through gritted teeth. He grabs Finnick by the arm. "Get up!" Finnick does so, but pulls his arm away from his hastily. Pearce steps up to Finnick, close enough that Finnick can see the tiny red veins in the whites of Pearce's eyes. "Do you _want_ to die? Do you _want_ me to kill you?" whispers Pearce angrily.

Finnick looks at him, unsure of what to say. They stare each other down for several seconds before Finnick says something. "Why are you doing this?"

Pearce steps back a bit and exhales, releasing much of the tension he had when he entered Finnick's cell. "Just change already. The reaping is in two hours." With that, Pearce leaves Finnick, returning half an hour later with a tray of breakfast food. And then another hour later with several other Peacekeepers to escort him and Bruma to the town square for the reaping.

x~~~~~~~x

Once they arrive at the square, he searches around, looking for her, hoping upon hope that she's okay. That she hasn't gotten herself lost in the haze of her mind. She's one of the last ones to arrive. Mags is with her, walking slowly towards the center of the females area. Finnick's first thought is how Annie looks so much thinner than he remembered her being sixty days ago.

"Annie!" he yells, not caring whether he's allowed to call out to her or not. Before he can catch her eyes as she turns swiftly in his direction, there's the business end of a rifle in front of his face. Finnick looks at the Peacekeeper, thinking it's Pearce for a moment, but it's not. Bruma pulls at his arm.

"Not now," Bruma says quietly.

Finnick tightens his lips, but doesn't say anything more. He's at the edge of the roped off section closest to the female victors' roped off section. Annie stands at the edge of hers, too. There's twenty feet between them, but for Finnick, it's almost too much to bear, to have her so close but yet not close enough. Never close enough. He sees her lips move, saying something but nothing audible. He can't read her lips, either, because her disheveled, flowing hair covers part of her face and mouth. But he has a feeling he knows what she's saying, what she's thinking.

"I miss you, too, my sweet Annie. I love you," he whispers to her. He knows she won't be able to hear it, but something in the way she looks at him at that moment lets him know she understands.

Before anything else can be said between them, Peacekeepers direct them back to the center of their roped off area. He sees Mags help pull Annie back before any Peacekeeper touches her, and he's surprised at how thankful he is for Mags doing even that much.

x~~~~~~~x

This is their punishment, being called in the Games again. Finnick never doubted it was all Snow's doing. He wonders if anyone else thinks the same. Surely, with the revolt from several districts, and apparently this thing with saving Katniss, things are getting a little too out of control for Snow that he had to do something to prevent it from continuing. What better way to do so than to have us victors all called back again into the arena.

He dreads going back into the arena as much as any sane person does, and to him, he's not counting those in District 1 or 2. But he knows at least there's a reason for his name to be called. He did help in the revolt, and that's definitely a good enough reason. But for Annie to go back in? Just the thought itself is enough to drive him right off the edge of sanity. And to think that he might have to sacrifice her life for the girl in District 12, for a reason he's not sure he quite understands yet, is unreasonable.

One thing's for certain, no matter what Katniss Everdeen has to give to the rebellion, even if it means freeing them all from Snow's grasp, there is no way he would willingly allow Annie's death. None at all. He'll have himself killed first before that happens.

That is what Finnick says to himself right before he hears Tessa, the escort for District 4, call out the name for the female tribute. "Annie Cresta!"

He holds his breath. He was right. She is going back into the arena. He hears her cry out hysterically, in a way that he hadn't quite heard before, and it's as painful to his heart as a knife would be, but he doesn't turn to look at her. It will only make him break down in sobs, and he doesn't want anyone, especially those in the Capitol who are watching this all, to see his weakness.

However, before he can even think of what he'll say to her once they get on the train back to the Capitol, he hears a commotion. It's not until he sees Mags' frail looking body, with her cane in hand, move toward the stage that he understands what has happened. He can't even begin to grasp fully the effect this change is doing to him before Tessa calls out the male tribute. "Finnick Odair!"

He sees movement next to him, but grabs onto Bruma's arm, stopping him from any notion of volunteering himself. Finnick doesn't say anything, but just quickly makes his way to the stage to stand next to Tessa. He avoids everyone's stares except for one. She looks at him with a sort of awe, and briefly tilts the corners of his mouth upwards, hoping that no one else but her will see.

Not a minute later, they're taken into the Justice Building. Finnick is already trying to figure out what to say when he sees Annie for their finale few minutes together before they take him and Mags to the train. But once inside, Pearce is standing in front of them with a strange look on his face.

"No visitors. We've been ordered to bring you to the train now," says Pearce, somewhat disdainfully.

Finnick's controlled demeanor starts to break as he begins to comprehend what this means.

He won't be seeing Annie.

They walk toward the back of the building to exit out the other side.

"Wait, I need to-"

"Sorry, Odair. Nothing I can do about it."

Once outside, he sees the car waiting for them. For no other reason than praying for a miracle, he looks around to see if anyone else is there. And his prayer is answered.

It's the panic in her eyes that catches him first, even before he hears her call out his name, as she turns the corner to find them.

"Finnick!" she yells, running towards him, her arms reaching out to him.

He tries to go to her, but is stopped by two Peacekeepers. Two other Peacekeepers hold Annie back as well.

"Don't touch her!" he yells, but they ignore him. "Leave her alone!"

Finnick tries to pull himself away, but the Peacekeepers have a good hold on him.

"Please!" yells Annie to the Peacekeepers. "Finnick!"

"Ah, let them go already! They're just going to make it harder on themselves anyway," orders Pearce, with a slight aggravation to his voice. Finnick doesn't bother to think about why Pearce is allowing this moment. He doesn't have time to.

They're in each other's arms before they take their next breath. He's never felt Annie squeeze so tightly than now, and he realizes that maybe Pearce is right. This is going to make it harder to let her go.

"Annie, you're going to be okay. Understand?" he whispers in her ear. "No matter what happens, promise me you'll fight to live. Promise me you won't give up."

"Finnick, please-" she says through her sobs, but he interrupts her.

"You're going to be okay, and you're going to live a long time, and you're going to fall in love again and have wonderful, beautiful babies-"

"Don't say that-" she says, shaking her head emphatically. Finnick feels her tears fall on the side of his face and on his shoulder. He holds her tighter, trying to control his own tears that burn behind his eyes, trying to be brave for her. "Promise me you'll love again. Please Annie, promise me."

Before she can answer, he hears Pearce tell them they've had enough time and orders the Peacekeepers to pull them apart. He knows he has to go, but he can't seem to willingly release himself from her grasp.

"No!" she screams as hands force their way between them. "No! NO!"

Even as the Peacekeepers successfully separate them, they still reach out for each other, their arms outstretched, unwilling to give up, even if only to have the tips of their fingers touch.

"Annie! Promise me!" he yells one final time, but her heartbroken screams and sobs in between her calling his name are the only sounds he hears before they force him into the car and drive away, leaving Annie behind to continue her life without him.

_Promise me you won't forget how much I love you._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**

Ah! I know! We're up to the Quarter Quell now. What to do, what to do. Comments are welcome. :)_  
><em>


	30. Chapter 29

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place during the 75**__**th**__** Hunger Games.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Brief moments from Finnick and Annie's POV of the Quarter Quell. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Haymitch, Pearce*  
>* =OC<strong>_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 29: Games No More<p>

Finnick is lost in a haze. He knows what he saw, he knows what he said, but it all felt so surreal. He wasn't even sure if it was real or a dream. But he knows now.

He's pushed onto the train with Mags trailing behind him, and before he realizes that he may not live to see Annie again, the train is already moving at 200 miles per hour. Finnick doesn't even know if he can make another move from where he is standing without breaking apart completely. He feels his heart pound painfully in his chest the farther the train speeds away from his home, away from her.

He tries to take a deep breath, only to feel it catch in his throat. A choking sound. Hot tears still burn behind his eyes, and he chances a look around the rest of the car that he's in and notices Tessa a few feet away from him with a confused look on her face. Before she can say anything, he finally does move and makes his way to one of the rooms and closes the door.

Finnick sits on the bed and rocks back and forth unconsciously. He goes through the last hour in his mind. How he heard Annie's name being called, seeing her frantic and crazed as her mind seemingly grasps what that means before Mags steps up to take her place. His fear for Annie was replaced with absolute relief in knowing that she wouldn't have to participate in the Hunger Games, but at the same time his relief is overshadowed with confusion and despair in seeing that Mags will be going in Annie's stead.

He can't help but feel a little guilty for how he's reacting to all of it. Elation for Annie because someone had taken her place, yet horror in seeing that that someone is Mags. Should he have felt differently if it was someone he wasn't as close to as Mags? _Would_ he have felt differently?

He ignores the soft knock on the door, but the door opens anyway. His first instinct is to yell at the person entering, but the cane that catches his eye clues him in to who it is. So, he stays silent as he watches her work her way to sit next to him on the bed. She sighs.

"I didn't even tell her, Mags." He bends forward to rest his elbows on his knees and looks down at his hands to avoid looking anywhere else. He hopes Mags knows what he means by it. She doesn't say anything though, so he continues. "I didn't even kiss her one more time."

He then puts his head down to his hands, wanting to cry, but refusing to all the same. Still Mags says nothing.

"Why did you do it, Mags?" Finnick says it so solemnly, knowing that her volunteering to take Annie's place will more than likely be the end of her.

"Look at me," she says slowly. Finnick rubs his face with the palms of his hands first before straightening back up and turning his gaze to his surrogate mother. Mags holds her chin up, not just to look him straight in the eyes, but also to prove her boldness. A sliver of a smile creeps onto her face, so slight that only people who really know her could see it. "She is my family, too… as much as you are, my dear." She says it in a way that lets him know that it should have already been obvious.

"I will gladly risk my life to save both of you," she adds. The words come out muddled through the good side of her mouth, but he understands her, not just with the words that she said.

He understands the extent to which she means. That she didn't volunteer just to keep Annie from the Games, but also to keep Finnick focused on keeping himself alive. She did it to give him a chance to come out of the Quarter Quell as a victor for a second time. There's a look of pain in his face that he can't quite hide, because he knows that even with Mags' unrelenting faithfulness in him to win the Games, he may have to willingly give up his life for a girl that he's not even met before, all for a rebellion that he's barely been a part of. Just the thought brings a tightness to his stomach.

"Mags-"

She stops him with a shake of her head and reaches for his hand to squeeze it before saying her next words. "Don't worry about _me_. I am already a victor." She smiles as best as her half-paralyzed face will let her. "Do what _you_ have to do."

Finnick isn't sure if she knows the task ahead of him, but her statement is clear. She will accept her fate without regret, no matter what he does in the arena. But will he still be able to go through with it, knowing that he might not be able to protect her and him as well as Katniss?

He comes to grips with what he has to do. He knows that Mags will be sorely disappointed in him if he allows his emotions to get in the way of what needs to be done in the arena. Still, he doesn't know if he'll be able to ignore Mags if she needs him once they're in there. He doesn't know if he'll be able to choose Katniss over Mags. So, for now, he just smiles half-heartedly back at her.

x~~~~~~~x

"But it's not real! Everyone aside from these Capitol idiots know it. Even Snow knows it!" he whispers angrily at the person.

Finnick managed to sneak away to an unoccupied hallway of the Remake Center, and although they know the area is not monitored by cameras, they still try to remain quiet so to avoid any wanderers. But still Finnick can't help but show his irritation at the latest request from him.

"You don't know her like I do," the man says. "Without him, I doubt we'd be able to get her support, and they say it's crucial that we get it."

"And who's 'they'?"

The man shrugs, then stumbles a little, as if that little motion has caused him to be dizzy. Finnick has to prevent a chuckle from leaving his mouth. He's still angry at this additional challenge presented to him.

"They! Them! The ones in charge of this whole… insurgence." The man lowers his voice even more when uttering the last word, so much so that Finnick has to guess what it is.

"And why are you so sure about this? Not even you, Haymitch, can honestly say that she loves him," says Finnick.

"Well, despite what you think, I actually know her." He pauses, then scowls a little. "Look, you don't have to believe all that love stuff, just do it. Keep. Peeta. Alive. Please."

Finnick stares at him for a moment, tightens his lips and breaths through his nose. He still doesn't think it would matter, but if that's what Haymitch is asking of him, as a friend, he'll do what he can to do what is requested of him.

"Fine." Finnick shakes his head after. "If you think it will help, then fine."

As Finnick is about to leave without saying another word to his irritating friend, Haymitch places a heavy hand on his shoulder to stop him. He turns his head to look at him again, only to be met with just as heavy eyes.

"This could save us, you know. All of us."

Finnick sighs, letting his annoyance subside. He remembers there is an ultimate goal in all of this, and it's not just to keep the two victors from District 12 alive. But he knows that what little hope they still have in the so-called insurgence lies rooted in the fact that those two victors inspired it. Of course, they'll now be called, unknowingly, to be the face of the rebellion. They _have_ to survive.

"I know," says Finnick reassuringly. He pats Haymitch's shoulder twice and nods before leaving to make his way to the chariots.

As he walks over there, he knows he's going to have to put on the best act of his life in front of the Capitol. No weakness can be shown. No feelings of loss or sorrow can be displayed. He's going to put on the faux mask he's perfected for years since he won the Games.

Finnick grabs a handful of sugar cubes in the bowl set aside next to the first set of horses he sees as he enters the room. He shakes the cubes around in his hand and eyes the rest of the victors-come-tributes, waiting for Katniss to arrive, so he can make his own assessment of her.

"Okay, girl on fire. Let's see what you're really about."

x~~~~~~~x

Annie sees him standing there, but she doesn't look at him. She's not afraid of him, even though most people would probably think she should be. He is a Peacekeeper, after all. The Head Peacekeeper at that. Still, she's not afraid. She could tell he is different.

"Interviews are tonight," he says.

She continues to rock slightly, holding her knees up to her chest.

"Don't you want to see your boyfriend?" he asks in an oddly sociable manner. For the slightest of moments, she furrows her eyebrows in confusion, then composes herself back to indifference, refusing to allow her emotions to be shown to him.

"Lies." She says it so quietly that she's sure he didn't hear her. Then she laughs, causing the hair in front of her face to move.

"Excuse me?"

"Lies," she repeats. "It won't be him. Not the real him." She's almost singing it like a melody, her voice light and airy and sad at the same time. Yes, a sad song. She repeats it again to herself, in her head, or so she thinks, and laughs again. _How odd my voice sounds._

Then Pearce's voice brings her to reality again, and she wonders if he knows how his presence is distracting her from her chance of going completely mad, or of dying a slow, painful death by starvation. It also doesn't bode well for her that she subconsciously prefers seeing him over any of her fellow victors.

Those fellow District 4 victors friendly enough to come visit her always show up with a guilty look on their face, acting as if they're sorry for her, when really they're just glad they weren't the ones called. She knows it's not fair to them to think about it that way. Each of them have been through their own version of the Games and have been affected by it.

She knows they truly _are_ sorry for her, but their faces are a constant reminder to her of all that she's been through and all that she's lost.

With Pearce, it isn't like that. If he's sorry for anything, he doesn't show it, at least not to her, and for that she feels a slight gratitude. Just a slight. But then she reminds herself that he is not her friend. Regardless of how he's acting now towards her, his job still controls some of his actions. Like when he had Bruma killed right after the reaping. It was another warning to those seeking to rebel again.

"Why are you here?"

"Don't you eat?" he asks, acting as if he didn't hear her question. He opens a few cupboards to see what remains of her food stock, huffs in what can only be presumed as disapproval, and pulls out a bag of her favorite snack – dried seaweed.

"You're not like the others," says Annie. Pearce glances over at her, but she's not even looking his way.

Suddenly the television activates on its own, showing the Capitol seal, and all conversation between them halts as they both glue their eyes to the screen and the people that are shown on it.

Only after the interviews have ended, and the screen shuts off abruptly after the District 12 tribute, Peeta, goes back to his place next to the District 12 female tribute, Katniss.

Whatever was said by any of those tributes never registered with Annie. Only Finnick and his words, his voice, reached her heart and her mind totally and completely.

Finnick had read her a poem, in front of everyone. Of course, he didn't outright say the poem was for her. He didn't call out her name, but she knows all the same that it was for her. Her elation at his words of love for her are overshadowed by the thought that she will not be able to reciprocate those feelings of love back.

"Against the tides…" she mumbles, repeating a part of the poem that Finnick had spoken.

She had forgotten that someone else was with her in the room. Even when a hand goes on her shoulder, she can't figure it out. She turns her head, half-expecting it to be Finnick, only to have her chest tighten to where she feels she can't breathe is when her mind allows her to see that it's Pearce.

Annie quickly shrugs his hand off her shoulder. "No! Don't touch me!" For a moment, she realizes that her actions might cause Pearce to retaliate against her, and punish her, and for the first time since Finnick was taken away, fear finally grips her. She turns her head back to the blank screen, closes her eyes, and wishes for Finnick to come back to her. Or even Mags.

She stays in that position long enough that when she finally opens her eyes, the house is quiet again, and the moon shines high through the window. She would have thought it all just her imagination, that Pearce being there wasn't real. That she just thought him up for some odd reason, and willed him away after the interviews showed.

She would have blamed it on her less-than-sane brain and would have laughed about it, if not for the box of dried seaweed left on the floor next to her… along with the necklace she thought she lost ages ago. The iridescence of the shell faintly visible in the dark.

She laughs anyway, the kind of laugh that holds no mirth. The kind that makes people turn away uneasily. She continues to laugh like this until the physical need for sleep finally overpowers her, lying on the floor in front of the television.

x~~~~~~~x

It's not that Finnick expected her to survive through the whole thing. He knew there was a slim chance of that happening, even if he didn't have the responsibility of keeping the tributes of District 12 alive. He knew.

Still, it didn't make him feel any better. It didn't take the burden of grief away. She was not his mother by birth, but she was just as good as, and that only made her death worse for him to deal with. He had experienced the death of a mother twice now.

Finnick knew the moment it happened, when Mags grabbed his face and kissed him, that he wouldn't be able to hide his pain over losing her, too. His cup of emotions was already filled to the brim when the Peacekeepers in District 4 pulled him away from Annie.

This is why he needed time alone. He didn't care if Katniss could see his pain. He was tired of holding it in. She let him be by with his thoughts, and he was more grateful to her than she probably realized.

_I'm sorry, Mags. _He doesn't know why it's necessary to think such things now, knowing that she can't hear or see him, but he does it anyway. _I know you'd probably be mad at me for being so weak at a time like this. But I can't help it. You _were_ like a mom to me. How can I not cry over you. _

Finnick tries to take a deep breath, but it goes in shaky and it goes out as silent sobs. _You'd probably smack me over the head if you could right now. _Finnick chuckles slightly at his own thoughts. _But you can't, and I'm sorry about that, too. _He pauses and wipes his nose._ I hope it didn't hurt, Mags. I know it's too much to wish for, especially now that it doesn't matter, but I hope it didn't hurt. Even if it didn't, I'm still sorry. You shouldn't have been here. But I know you would ask me who it should be then if not you. I don't know. I guess no one. _

His thoughts somehow go to Annie, and he wonders if she saw it. The thought that it's most likely that she did causes that cup of emotions to overflow even more. A new set of tears stain his cheeks, knowing there's just so much pain, too much pain everywhere.

And anger. Anger at what these Games have cost them. Not only them, but everyone. It has cost everyone something. It has cost many of them their lives. Or their minds, which is probably even worse. It has cost some their self-respect, but mostly it has cost them their humanity.

_We aren't human anymore, Mags. We're animals. No, worse than even that, because animals don't think like we do. Mags, we're monsters. Even me, even Annie. Even you. We should just… _

Finnick stops his train of thought. He doesn't want to think that way, and he knows Mags would be outraged at him, especially after what she just did to help them continue on. She sacrificed her life for him, and he can't allow his grief to change his mind about helping the rebellion. He still has to keep Katniss and Peeta alive. He can't just give up now.

He knows what he has to do and he knows there are others out there who are probably relying on him as well. The other tributes in the arena included, those involved in the rebellion. They're all relying on each other.

_No, I won't give up, Mags. I won't. But I need to let this out. I need this time._ So, he does. He lets his cup spill out and he tries to shed as much of the tears that he's been holding back as he can before the dawn approaches.

He goes through his losses over the last few years like a slideshow, or more like a video overview in his mind. His parents' deaths. Annie's father's death. Annie's horrible years of abuse. Turlach's death. Annie's mental breakdowns. His own nightmares. Annie's solitary confinement under Snow. Him and Annie being separated from each other. And now Mags' death. Each image in his mind he sends out through the tears he sheds until he can't cry anymore.

He does so with the intent to complete his time of mourning, and to do what he needs to do to stop this type of pain from happening ever again. To anyone.

x~~~~~~~x

"Why are you here?" Annie asks him again in her sing-song voice. She asks him the same question every time he visits, but he gives no answer. She doesn't look at him, though, when she asks.

"It's a shame about Mags." He says it not to taunt her with his statement. She can tell he feels genuinely bad, which only confuses her more.

He stands slightly to the left of the television, careful not to block the screen, as if he knows that she's watching it to see where Finnick. But it's obvious that he wants her attention. Somehow he gets closer to her without her realizing it, and he's holding out something to her. Annie glances briefly at what Pearce has in his hands. Tissue.

The coldness of the wet streaks on her face finally hit her. She has been crying. She wonders if what she thought was a dying cat only minutes ago was actually her.

Finnick's voice through the television brings her back to reality. He's talking to some bloody girl – that Johanna victor. When the view shifts to the other people, Annie takes a moment look at Pearce, and he's sitting on the armchair eating. He looks back at her.

"You really need to eat," he says, nodding his head toward a spot next to her on the floor. She looks at the spot to find a plate full of fruits and a sandwich with some kind of meat in it. As if on cue, her stomach growls assertively. Or maybe it's been growling for days and she only just notices it.

She wants to scarf it down, all of what's on her plate, but the fact that she senses Pearce watching her and that Finnick is on the screen keeps her from doing so. Two hours later, her plate is empty and Pearce has left to do whatever a Head Peacekeeper is supposed to do.

She whispers in her sing-song voice again, to no one. "Not like the others."

x~~~~~~~x

Annie pulls at her hair, screaming at the top of her lungs. Screaming at the TV. She feels as if she truly is going mad this time. _No! It's not possible! I'm not there! I'm not there!_

_I'm here!_ Annie laughs. She laughs at the ridiculousness of it all. She doesn't even know anymore where she's at. But she hears herself there, and she hears herself here. And she hears Finnick calling out for her. She sees him running to where he thinks she is. Annie watches with crazed eyes, wondering if she will actually see herself there, in the midst of the jungle, screaming, just as she's screaming right now.

Then she hears someone else call out her name. Another male voice. It's closer to her than the Finnick on TV. It's so odd for her to hear, and she can't understand what's going on. It doesn't sound like Finnick, but someone is definitely calling her where she's standing.

As the Finnick on TV relaxes, still not fully comprehending what just happened there, she relaxes. Then she laughs and sobs at the same time. Her eyes have turned to that crazed look, peering just enough through her wildly loose tresses.

She doesn't even realize the hands that are gripping her wrists until they let go. She stands there, looking at her hands, then at the screen. Back and forth, as if trying to see where she's at.

Pearce places a soft cloth on her collarbone. "You scratched yourself up a little bit, girl."

She grabs the cloth and pulls it away, and sees the small spots of blood on it. She touches the area where the scratches are and feels swelling of skin from where she scratched herself. She hears Finnick's voice through the TV again and turns her full attention to it.

From that point on, she stops asking Pearce why he's there.

x~~~~~~~x

Finnick certainly didn't know how exactly it was going to happen, and he certainly wasn't planning on things turning out like this, but it was too late to worry about it now. It happened and now they have to try and get Katniss out of there. If only he could find her!

He calls for both Johanna and Katniss, but there's no answer, and things are getting really dire.

He actually didn't want Katniss and Peeta separated, partially for the fact that it would be easier for him to protect them both if they were together, but also because Johanna and Beetee had explained that it might be the only way for Beetee's plan to work and they needed to take the risk. He reluctantly agreed.

Now he regrets that decision. Because he knows how the plan was supposed to go, and this wasn't it. Peeta's gone off, and he can't find Katniss or Johanna. And he knows that somehow Beetee still needs to break the force field that surrounds the arena, so they could be rescued. But with everyone all scattered about, he's not sure how he'll get them back together in time.

Finnick searches around until he hears Peeta calling out for Katniss. Then he hears Katniss shouting back. He's closer to Katniss than Peeta, near the lightning tree. He has to get to her before anyone else does. If there's one thing he's going to do after all of this, he's going to keep Katniss alive. He can only hope that Peeta and Johanna will get there in time, too.

But once he reaches the lightning tree, he realizes that Enobaria is also there. He stands there, staring at Enobaria, and she glares right back at him, with her wicked smile and her sharp, pointy teeth shining through.

Before either of them can do anything, lightning literally strikes the tree they're standing near, forcibly knocking both of them down in opposite directions.

He wonders how death can be this simple. Just a flash and a last breath. The pain is for the others to deal with after.

_Annie, I'll be waiting for you._

Then it all goes black.

x~~~~~~~x

The TV screen goes black for a moment, and then all that is shown now is the Capitol seal. _What just happened?_

Annie scratches the scabs at her collarbone, and starts pacing back and forth in the living room, waiting, hoping for the TV screen to come back on. Ten minutes go by, then twenty, and still nothing.

Another ten minutes and Head Peacekeeper Pearce enters the house.

She's seen him more than a dozen times in the past several days, and she's grown accustomed to his presence. She's always known that he wasn't like the other Peacekeepers, and although she never really consciously welcomed him, she accepted his company.

But this time, as he stares at her, she senses something unusual about his demeanor and the expression on his face. He looks more serious than he has looked recently, and… regretful. She knows something bad is going to happen.

"They've come to take you."

The statement is as clear to her as the sun, and something in her snaps. She runs up the stairs to the second floor, into Finnick's bedroom, and locks the door to stall for time. Then she runs to the balcony and looks down, seeing if she can jump down to safety.

It's strange to her that she had never really looked straight down from there before. Always looking out or up, but never down.

Is it too late for Finnick? Did he die already? If she jumps and breaks her neck, and Finnick is still alive only to be told that she killed herself… she couldn't do that to him.

But how can she willingly go back to the Capitol? Or is that even what they want from her? Maybe they'll just kill her.

She doesn't know what to do anymore. Confusion and despair take over as she hears the bedroom door being forced open. Guards come and she tries to fight them, but they are too many and before she knows it, there's a blow to her head that forces her to her knees.

She can't fight it anymore and they drag her down the steps. Just as they pass Pearce, she mumbles something.

"Hold on!" commands Pearce, and the guards hesitate for a moment, wondering if they should listen to Pearce. "Just wait."

He pulls his head closer to hers and she looks him straight in the eyes. "You're not like the others," she whispers to him. Something flickers in his eyes and disappears just as fast. She forces a laugh out as they drag her away, and onto the hovercraft.

_Finnick._ "Finnick!"

Her laughs turn into ear piercing screams, until one of the guards smashes the side of her head with the butt of his gun and she blacks out.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I know I may be stretching it with the dried seaweed thing as I'm not sure if that's actually something they can make in District 4, but I figured that after centuries of changes the earth supposedly goes through, this is possible.

Also, before people start asking, no, I'm not trying to make a love triangle thing. Annie and Finnick will always belong to each other.

If you're wondering why I didn't write up Finnick's poem, well, let's just say that poems are not by forte.

As for the Games itself, I just didn't want to go through each moment of the Games, so you just get certain parts of it from either Finnick or Annie's POV. It's basically the same story as it is in Catching Fire anyway, and you've already read that.


	31. Chapter 30

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place the weeks after the breakout surviving victors of the 75**__**th**__** Hunger Games.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Brief moments from Annie's POV during her imprisonment in the Capitol. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Peeta, Johanna, Enobaria, Darius **_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 30: The Breaking of a Soul<p>

Annie opens her eyes wide as the gurgled screams continue to echo throughout the hall and stretch into her cell, making her skin rise with goose bumps. She doesn't know how many times this makes it, where her hands attempt to block the sound of pain, but it never succeeds. Annie always hears them scream or shout or moan in pain. Sometimes it's not real, many times it is, but she has a hard time being able to tell the difference these days.

Days. She doesn't even know how many have passed. There are no windows to the outside world in the cell that she's in. It looks eerily similar to the room that she was in a year ago. Everything looks the same and the walls are still as empty as ever. The placement of all the fixtures are in the same spot. She probably would've assumed that's exactly where she was, except for one major detail – the fourth wall, the one with the door, is mostly made of a thick acrylic glass.

Although she can see that there is a corridor that people can pass through and observe them, there is still nothing to indicate day or night, not even a clock. The lights that brightly illuminate the rooms and the corridor never turn off, either.

She realized immediately after she woke up that she also had neighbors. And one of those neighbors is screaming in pain now. She thinks it's the girl this time, but it's hard to tell with the sound being somewhat muffled, and with all the gurgling.

_Johanna_. Annie remembers her well. _She's the one that hates the Capitol. She was the bloody one in the arena._

Annie can hear Johanna coughing now. _Whatever they're doing to her, they've given her time to breathe._ Annie recognizes that they're torturing her with water. They're drowning her.

Annie's mind brings back the memories of her last moments in the arena five years ago, during her Games. It had been so long since she thought about that time, and yet it comes back to her as vivid as this year's Games. She covers her ears without even knowing it and starts humming loudly, trying to block the sounds from her memories.

But the sounds of pain cannot be blocked.

x~~~~~~~x

From what she was able to tell after she woke from her unconsciousness on the first day, there are at least five of them, maybe more, but she only recognizes four distinct voices. She knows Enobaria is in the cell left of her and Johanna is in the one to the right of her. At first, they threw insults at each other from across her cell, which bothered Annie immensely, but she wouldn't be able to stop them even if she wanted to.

Peeta is in the room on the other side of Johanna, and although he's a bit farther away, she can hear him speak just as well as she can hear Johanna and Enobaria. She remembers Peeta's reaction after first awaking very well.

His first thoughts were on Katniss, because he started shouting her name at the top of his lungs. Johanna and Enobaria had both yelled back at him to shut up, but then Johanna would tell Enobaria to shut up also, as if Johanna was the only one who had a right to yell at Peeta. In the back of her mind, Annie found it somewhat amusing and laughed deliriously. She didn't realize it, but that stopped everyone else.

This time she is stopped. The sounds that echo throughout the prison do not at first seem to be from a person, but she realizes that it is. Then she wonders if it's Peeta, although she has heard him yelp in pain before and it was never like this. For a moment it seems like there were two people crying out in pain, but if there was, she can only hear one now.

"Stop! You're killing him! Why are you doing this?! What do you want?!" yells Peeta. Annie can only imagine what kind of torture is being done to whoever it is Peeta is pleading for. She squeezes her eyes shut and pushes her hands against her ears harder than she's ever done before.

A sudden paralyzing fear plagues her as the thought of Finnick being that person becomes a very real possibility. She jumps up and practically slams her whole body against the acrylic glass wall, ignoring the pain on the side of her face as she tries to catch any glimpse down the corridor to find out who it is exactly that's making those terrifying, inhuman sounds.

The problem is she can't see anything, she can only hear everything.

"Finnick?" she says hesitantly. "Finnick!"

"Shut up! It's not Finnick!" Johanna bites back. But Annie isn't registering Johanna's words, and she only hear the sound of the man's pain.

Only after several more minutes of hearing the man being tortured can she see the guards pulling the man out of a cell. She can barely see him, but she notices the one thing that makes her realize that it isn't Finnick.

The man has red hair.

She thinks she hears Peeta say his name. Darius.

Annie gasps in relief, almost laughing, until she realizes that even though it wasn't Finnick that was being tortured, someone else was, and she didn't even care who it was as long as it wasn't him. She backs away from the wall as if it was searing her skin, backs all the way against the opposite wall, and crouches down on the floor, crying in shame.

x~~~~~~~x

She assumes it's the next day when they do the same thing to the same person. Darius' agonizing screams, although they sound more animal than human, are again heard throughout the prison. Annie doesn't realize she's screaming at the same time he is, even ripping out some strands of hair around her ears as her fingers curl tight into fists.

She hears the guards, or the torturers, but her mind is so overwhelmed by the redhead's cries of pain that she doesn't comprehend anything they're saying. Plus, there are too many voices yelling over each other, too many people wanting to be heard.

Annie covers her ears again and hums loudly. This seems to have the best desired effect against the noise around her. But the louder they get, the louder she gets until she's crying or screaming, whichever her mind allows her to do that day.

After what can be assumed as days of unbelievably cruel torture, Darius finally dies, and for once Annie feels relief in knowing he's gone without the association of guilt, because he no longer has to suffer in the hands of these drones, these monsters, of the Capitol.

If only she could be so lucky.

x~~~~~~~x

One day, the guards take Peeta out of his room and walk him down the hall.

"Where are you taking me?" he asks the guards as they continue walking. They don't say where exactly, only tell him that he has a very important job to do for the president.

Johanna obviously hears it, too, yelling through her door, "Whatever it is, Peeta, don't do it!"

Enobaria, who hasn't said much since she's been in there, laughs in a deep, evil tone, and Johanna yells at her. "What're you laughing at, you pointy-toothed freak?!"

This only makes the gravelly voiced woman laugh once more. "As if he has any choice in the matter," says Enobaria.

Annie hears a pounding noise coming from Johanna's cell and she wonders if Johanna used her head or her hand to beat against the wall. But at least nothing else is said by anyone.

For some reason, Annie wants to know exactly when Peeta comes back, so she leans against the door and listens for his return. It is a long time before Peeta returns from wherever it was they took him, and Annie thinks she could feel the heaviness in the air, the heaviness that weighs on him. She knows there is something amiss, and even though she wants to ask, she's not sure if she really wants to know.

Johanna even tries to talk to him, but he doesn't respond. Or at least not loud enough for it to be an actual conversation. Even with Johanna's cell between them, Annie thinks she hears him mumble Katniss' name.

Annie thinks of where Katniss could be_. Did they take him to see her? Is Finnick here?_ She wonders if Snow has them in a different area of the building. _Finnick? Are you here? _

She doesn't know what happened to cause Peeta to act as dismal as he is, but she is half afraid and half anxious that the guards are going to take her next, thinking that she may possibly see Finnick today, but it wouldn't be for anything than under the worst circumstances, that she believes. Maybe for torture, like they did to that redheaded man. But if that was the case, wouldn't they have done that already? Wouldn't they have taken her to be tortured, maimed, beaten in front of him if they had him here?

She waits nervously, expecting the door to open any minute now, but they never do take her out of the room.

Oddly enough, that fact gives her a bit of hope. The fact that not seeing Finnick is probably a good thing at this moment, and she closes her eyes to picture Finnick's face in her mind. She can see his soft smile, the one that he only displays to a few people, including her. In her mind, she can even hear him laugh a little. And she can see the beauty of his sea green eyes shining brightly, as if they are gleaming from the last rays of a warm sunset.

Annie smiles back at the mental image of her love. She even laughs a little as her eyes begin to well with tears.

_Finnick, wherever you are, I know you're still alive. I know you are. You have to be. _

X~~~~~~~x

Annie hears the others, the screams and groans of pain again. Only one of them seems to continue to fight and scream and laugh at them, taunting them to continue if they want to. Johanna. Annie tries to block the sound again as they continue to inflict more pain on Johanna for what seems like hours when it's probably not even half of an hour.

After a few rounds of whatever pain they inflict on Johanna, she hears Johanna laugh through her coughing. Clear as day, she hears Johanna say, "I still look better than you drones!" Annie's almost afraid of hearing another barrage of beatings on Johanna, but it doesn't happen. Instead, she hears footsteps shuffling and the door opening, then closing.

"Is this the best you can do?!" yells Johanna, before she coughs and sputters some more.

"Johanna?" Annie says almost sheepishly after a few minutes. She hasn't actually directly spoken to Johanna before, which she finds curious now considering they've been neighbors for quite some time now. Maybe even weeks. She hears Johanna sigh and groan a little. Annie calls out her name again louder.

"What do you want, Annie?" Johanna says.

"You know me?"

"And you know me. Besides, who else would be calling out for Finnick?" Annie flinches at the mention of Finnick before Johanna continues and says, "Yeah, I know you."

"Why are we here?" asks Annie. She may have an idea, but everything happened so fast that day that she still isn't sure what's going on. "Why are they doing this to us?"

Johanna laughs, but there's no humor in the tone. "Obviously they're short on martyrs."

"I don't understand."

Johanna sighs again. "Don't worry about it. Just… just try not to go crazy, will you?" Annie doesn't say anything, unsure of what _to_ say to that. Then Johanna asks, "How did you get here anyway?"

"I don't know!" Annie says louder than she means to. "I don't! They just… took me," explains Annie, trying to stay calm, but she can feel her lips trembling as she speaks and she can only hope that Johanna doesn't ask her to repeat herself, because she's honestly not sure she can speak much longer without breaking down.

"Well, if that's really you, and it would be odd for you to be someone _pretending_ to be Annie, then they want you for something… or someone, someone who the Capitol wants," Johanna takes another breath before she adds, "or more specifically, that Snow wants. I think you know who I'm talking about."

Annie does know, but didn't want to really admit it to herself. Now that Johanna has brought it up, she can't help but nod in agreement, even though Johanna can't see it. It's that admittance to herself that brings another set of emotions up from within her.

She doesn't answer Johanna, but she wonders if Johanna understands when the sound, birthed from within her heart, bursts out in a deep growl to a full blown agonizing scream.

Annie continues screaming until the soreness in her throat and the fact that she can no longer produce a sound forces her to stop. After a minute of silence, Annie realizes that there's a pounding in her head, so she decides to close her eyes. Her silence gives her time to accept the situation as it is, and know that what she thought before must really be true then.

That if there was a reason to take her and keep her prisoner instead of killing her, Finnick would be that reason. Knowing that Johanna confirmed what she already thought gives her not only an anger that she never thought she had, as well as an odd self-confidence that makes her wonder if it's only a symptom of her growing sense of insanity, but another feeling continues to fester within her. One that she's all too familiar with, that helps her know she still has some conscious thought. Fear. Fear not for herself this time. Fear for him, because she knows that using her to lure Finnick back to the Capitol, and back to Snow, will cost him his life.

_Finnick, don't come here. Please don't. They'll just kill you. They'll kill us both. Just let me die knowing you're safe. _

x~~~~~~~x

It's become routine now. The screams, coming through the walls that surround her, sound as if the person its coming from is standing right next to her. She opens her eyes, then closes them, then opens them again, trying to make sure that no one else is there. She doesn't know if seeing them would make it any better or worse than just hearing them. Especially when it's Peeta that's making the noise. She can't help but imagine Finnick's face, twisted in agony, whenever Peeta's being tortured.

Annie knows this is the best way to hurt her. As bad as the physical torture is on her, this is what really gets her. The screams. The sounds of people's pain. This is what she reacts to the most, and whoever is in charge probably figured that out from the very beginning, or at least from her reaction to the redheaded man. Sometimes when it gets too much to bear, she pounds at the walls, begging them to stop even though she knows they won't.

They come with food trays twice a day. Sometimes just once. And when the food does come, it's nothing extravagant. Not like the tables full of a variety of the best foods from each district during the Victory Banquet. More food made from tessera. _Another way of weakening us_, she thinks. _Of making us vulnerable to our fears._ She wonders how much longer they will keep at this. Even with her newly sought self-confidence, there's only so much she will be able to take from all of this mental anguish.

There's a period in each day that they take Peeta away from his room. Just Peeta. She doesn't know what they do to him, but every time he returns, that heaviness that she felt before is always there, following him back into his room. It seeps into the walls and reaches out to her. Sometimes Annie covers her ears, until she realizes that it's not a sound that enters her head, and then she lets out an awkward laugh.

"Peeta!" Johanna yells, but he doesn't answer back. "Peeta!" Still no answer. "Don't let them break you." Annie thinks that last statement hits her as much, if not more, than Peeta.

"But that's what they do," whispers Annie.

"You need to fight this," says Johanna, but even Johanna sounds uncertain.

"You're a fool," says Peeta. Even though he's not shouting it, Annie hears every word. "You're all fools."

x~~~~~~~x

She tries to recall if there was a time before the Quarter Quell when she knew something like this was going to happen. When they would try to take her away from Finnick, or vice versa.

She ponders the idea that it was because of his part in the rebellion in District 4, when he got caught by Pearce. But she remembers a point before then that might be a more personal reason for Snow. When Finnick's phone rang that one night, the night Snow announced the Quarter Quell. And Finnick didn't answer it.

They both understood what the phone call was about, and she knew it could cause trouble for him in the future. A little part of her wishes that he would have just done what he was supposed to do and take the call, and she laughs lifelessly at the thought. Finnick did what he did for Annie anyway. He didn't want to leave her side.

Yet, he was forced to anyway, and she chuckles again at the irony of it. In the end, the Capitol seems to find a way to undo them. Some part of her brain, the considerably more alert part, is able to finally understand this. And she hates them for it.

She hates them more than anything, more than the community home, more than the loss of her parents, more than even Garcen. Because what is Garcen but a product of the Capitol anyway.

She may not know the specifics of why Johanna hates them, but at least she has at least an idea of the feeling of her hatred toward them. Even so, Annie isn't completely like Johanna. Annie still fears. Unlike Johanna, Annie still has someone that she loves that she knows is still alive.

Annie's thoughts are interrupted as she hears Johanna's cries of pain. They've stopped abusing her for some reason and have focused much of their tirade against her neighbor. There is only Johanna and Peeta in the prison with her now.

She can tell that Johanna is trying to stifle her screams of agony, but they're forced out of her and, for once, Annie doesn't cover her ears right away. Instead she screams back through the door this time, yelling at those who are causing Johanna's pain to stop.

"Stop! Stop it!"

With each yell, with each pounding on the door, her anger grows and grows within her, urging itself to come out of her and pound the door until she can't pound it any longer. There are no tears, either. The tears stopped a while ago, although she doesn't remember exactly when. It's not like she's been able to keep track of the days.

Johanna stops screaming, but only because they're drowning her again. There's an usual sound that Annie's not able to figure out, but she knows it can't be good. She can hear Johanna struggling in the water, too.

"Stop. You're killing her," she mutters, barely audible, her resolve tiring. She finds her place in the corner again, and crouches down. She covers her ears out of pure habit, barely registering what she's doing.

When they finally do stop, Annie thinks that they have finally killed her. Then when the torturers leave, she hears, just barely, Johanna sniffle.

For what seems like hours later, Peeta returns to his room, and Annie lowers her forehead onto her knees, as if the heaviness that Peeta brings with him is physically weighing down on her.

Annie then realizes they don't need to beat her to bring her to hopelessness. They do a pretty good job breaking her down via the two other victors, or victims seems more like it.

x~~~~~~~x

She doesn't actually know when they took Enobaria out of the room left of hers. She vaguely remembers a point in time where she heard movement, but it could've been in a dream or a brief haze for all she knows. But Annie didn't fret about her as much as she did about Johanna and Peeta. Probably because Enobaria kept to herself most of the time.

For some reason, she pictures Enobaria in her mind, with her pointed teeth, and she recalls what Johanna had said to her many days ago. Or was it weeks? Months?

_Pointy-toothed freak._

Annie laughs wistfully.

Even Annie knows that Enobaria was never part of what happened in the arena, and obviously she didn't have someone she loves that Snow wanted. For a split second, she envies Enobaria, then becomes furious with herself for thinking such a thought.

Her relationship with Finnick has been the only thing that has helped her through these past five years. She hates knowing that she even regretted it for that brief moment. That blink of an eye.

"Stupid girl!" she says to herself.

_Look at me. Look at me! _ His voice echoes in her head, but it's almost as if he were there. Her mind brings back the memory of that scene.

It's five years ago and Annie had just won the Hunger Games. She remembers being backstage trying to stop herself from completely panicking. But she's doing a terrible job of it, and that's when Finnick reaches out to her. She imagines him in her room right now, looking straight at her as he urges her eyes to focus on him.

_Now listen to my voice._

"Okay," she whispers, just as she did then. She stares at the imaginary Finnick in front of her.

_Okay, when I tell you to, close your eyes and think of something good. Think of…_

"The beach." Annie's eyes close as she says the words, imagining just that. She can almost feel it, the breeze in her hair, the sand between her toes, and him. She imagines Finnick's arms around her, his nose tickling her neck. His lips grazing her shoulder. Annie laughs, more relaxed this time. She feels good, feels at peace for the first time in a long while.

_We can go home soon._ He said that, too, she remembers. With that, she opens her eyes. Those words bring her back to reality and imaginary Finnick fades away in front of her. She doesn't even attempt to reach out to him as she sometimes did before when the vision of him seemed so real.

The hopelessness she was fighting so hard against sweeps in like a tidal wave. She knows going home is as likely to happen as it is for this all to be just a nightmare, which she knows it is not.

"No. We can't," she says with finality.

She wonders when it was that she stopped feeling the pain in her chest, the constant ache that comes with thinking of Finnick. She wonders if that's a sign of her giving in to insanity, or giving up. Or if she's just dying from starvation, not of food, but of every good human emotion there is.

x~~~~~~~x

The constant torture of Peeta and Johanna plague not only her waking hours, but during her restless sleep as well. It's only natural that her hands move towards her ears, covering them. Half the time she doesn't even realize it's her own screams that disturb any attempt at slumber.

The thing is that no one is screaming, and she knows it. It's a routine. Somehow, her body knows how long it will be until the next round of torture or beatings on her neighbors begins and her hands automatically make their motions.

Whatever time it is, it is time for her to wake up. She usually wakes up to someone being beaten, but not this time. Something is different. She doesn't know what, but something is quite off.

"Johanna?" she croaks, as it's been several days since she spoke to anyone. She tries again, louder, and her throat burns slightly from the strain.

"Thought you were dead," Johanna answers back.

Annie makes an unfamiliar sound in the back of her throat in reaction to Johanna's comment. Then she laughs awkwardly.

"Something is wrong." Annie tries to sound calm and confident, but it's not something that she's used to being, and she just hopes that Johanna doesn't comment about it if she sounds anything but.

Johanna doesn't say anything for a while, and Annie is about to repeat herself, taking a deep breath to yell it out, but Johanna says, "Peeta. He's usually back by now, but they haven't brought him back yet."

As soon as it's said, drones enter the corridor, and from the sound of it, they are dragging something with them. Annie hears the familiar sound of the keys opening Peeta's door, and then she hears a thunk before they walk out and slam the door shut.

"Peeta!" Johanna says loudly, but there is no response. "Peeta!" Still no response.

"Is he dead?" asks Annie, ready to accept whatever answer Johanna gives her.

"I don't think so. They probably wouldn't have brought him back here if he was," says Johanna, and Annie nods. "He's probably just unconscious. Or refusing to speak to me. Either way, this doesn't look good."

Annie unintentionally thinks back to when Peeta did die, even though it was only for a minute or two. Finnick had resuscitated Peeta by blowing air into his lungs, using the mouth-to-mouth technique that is commonly used in District 4. She is able to recall it clearly now, although it wasn't something that she had tried to remember before.

Visualizing the scene in her head, she remembers that Katniss had broken down into sobs. Katniss was actually scared of losing Peeta. Annie knew absolutely that Katniss fell in love with Peeta somewhere along the line. Because of that, she feels a connection with Katniss in that sense.

And now, although she had yet to directly speak with Peeta, she knows that things have changed. They are all broken into many tiny pieces. Especially them, being in the prison cells, being tormented both physically and mentally.

Annie knows that the heaviness that Peeta has been carrying is a result of that, and she wonders if they can ever recover from something like this. Even if they survive by some miraculous fate, if they're able to get out of these cells alive, will they be able to still function properly? She was already damaged before coming here, so how much more now? Even Johanna has been affected. So is it really a good thing that Peeta is still alive?

"Better than dead," replies Annie, surprising even herself with that statement, especially when all her thoughts are leading her in the other direction. She's battling her own logical way of thinking. She laughs. "Yes, better than dead."

It doesn't take long before the drones return, this time unleashing a barrage of pain on Johanna. Annie's heart beats hard and fast as she tries to endure the images that run through her head at what they could possibly be doing to her.

This time, Annie's mind turns on her and she can't think straight anymore. Her last image before she escapes into the haze of the nothingness that Finnick has helped her to avoid in the past isn't even a true image.

It's an image of her and Finnick, lying on their sides in a bed, faces toward each other. A baby lies between them, crying softly. They both stare down at their little creation, because, yes, they created him. She smiles, lost in the image and unaware of anything around her. It's a beautiful image, one that beckons her to stay in forever. And she finds it's not such a bad idea.

No longer will she hear the screams of Johanna or Peeta or anyone else that they may want to bring to torture her with. No longer will she wonder about the severity of Peeta's own troubled soul. No longer will she hope on something that will never happen.

She no longer wants to fight that haze, especially when Finnick and their son are there. This could be her last chance of finding true happiness, and although it may not be real, she accepts that it feels about as real as it will ever be.

Just as she is about to give in completely to the reality of her world, and lose herself to her own imagination, a real memory enters her mind.

"_No matter what happens, promise me you'll fight to live. Promise me you won't give up."_

And just like that, the haze is gone. Johanna can be heard, somehow sloshing in water, then gasping for air, then sloshing again, and finally being released to breathe.

For few seconds that follow, Annie screams in complete frustration and anger. Not anger toward the drones, or herself, or even toward the Capitol or Snow.

No, for once in her life, she's utterly angry at Finnick Odair for bringing her back to her senses.

The tears come back with a vengeance, stinging her eyes, giving her a dull pain to add to the rest of her pain.

"_Promise me you won't give up."_

It's only after hearing those words repeat in her head about a thousand times that her anger eventually subsides, and she nods in acceptance.

"I promise. I won't give up."

x~~~~~~~x

She wonders how things might have been if she had given in to that side of her brain that was lost in a haze. Had she been able to understand all that was going on around her now?

Would she have been able to understand what they were communicating to her when she woke up from the effects of the knockout gas they used to evade attacks from the guards holding their posts in the prison?

Would she have been able to believe them as they said they were on their way to District 13 to reunite them with their friends? As it was, she still had a hard time believing it, and she was alert!

And would she have been able to feel the complete emotional and wide-eyed anticipation of seeing her former mentor turned boyfriend in the flesh again?

All the questions in her mind swirled like a tornado. But it didn't matter anymore. None of it did.

Because in all the miracles in all of Panem, if there ever was a miracle to be had, nothing is as miraculous to her as she finds herself in Finnick Odair's arms again.

They whisper words of love, of comfort, of relief, between desperate kisses. She holds him as tight as she can, feeling his arms wrap around her firmly, as if trying to protect her from the air itself. She runs her fingers through his wonderful mess of bronze-colored hair. She breathes in the familiar smell of him, somewhat changed from probably being in the confines of District 13 and not having that same sea-salt scent, but still knowing it's him. She even revels in the dryness of his lips against hers, knowing that hers are just as dry and they will heal in time with each kiss they place on each other. She allows herself to be swept in the power of his sea green eyes and the ethereal light that glows within them as he stares at her, into her, straight to her heart. And she is overcome with the true beauty of who he is and finally finds her strength.

Nothing she could have imagined in her screwed up head, not even the fake image of her with Finnick and son, would have ever felt as right as the reuniting of their souls at that moment.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**  
>Okay, this has been a trying two weeks! So many things distractions, including the Olympics and my upcoming birthday, going on at the same time do not make for good dedicated writing time. Plus, it was actually hard for me to try to get into Annie's meltdown. I'm not sure if I'm completely satisfied with this chapter myself, but I think this is as best I can do without having to spend all my energy in Annie's brain.<p>

It might be another two weeks for my next chapter, but rest assured I will not abandon this story! I believe it's close to being done anyway.


	32. Chapter 31

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place the weeks after Peeta, Johanna, and Annie's rescue from the Capitol. **_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: Finnick spends his time with Annie while she's healing in District 13's hospital ward. During one of those days, he gets a chance to converse with Katniss' mom as well as Johanna. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Mrs. Everdeen, Johanna Mason **_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 31: No More Time For Loss<p>

Finnick watches her silently as she sleeps. She had incurred some internal injuries and infections during her time in the Capitol, including a couple of broken fingers and ribs and unfortunately, because they were left untreated for so long, they didn't heal quite right. It wasn't even detected until after she had reunited with Finnick.

After their reunion in the hallway, it didn't seem she wanted to ever leave his side, let alone even stop touching him. He felt the same way, so although it wasn't District 13 regulation, they allowed Finnick to be with Annie during all her medical tests and procedures to heal her from her internal damage.

Because of her broken fingers that healed improperly, the doctor on call promptly went about re-breaking them. Finnick couldn't help himself and he yelled at the doctor for not giving Annie something to deal with the pain. The doctor explained matter-of-factly that they had to save the pain medication for those in much more dire need of them. Finnick wanted to slam him against the nearest wall for such a statement, but that would mean letting go of Annie's hand, which she was holding onto tightly with her good one.

Instead, he stroked her hair, wiped her tears, and whispered in her ear as his lips grazed gently against the side of her face.

_I'm here. _

_You're with me._

_I've got you._

_I love you. _

After that was over, they left them alone to rest, to heal and comfort each other.

When the results from her tests came back, it was discovered that Annie was suffering from malnutrition and a kidney infection. The malnutrition was obvious, and the doctor pointed out how he found it astonishing that she was even able to run to Finnick when she arrived. Finnick didn't find it astonishing at all. He always knew Annie had a strong will. He smiled at her then, moved a flyaway strand of hair away from her eyes, and stroked her cheek lightly with his thumb.

It was therefore decided that she stay in the hospital where they could properly medicate, hydrate, and feed her. But Finnick knew there was more to it than that. They wanted to observe her.

Finnick had heard about Peeta's attack on Katniss. Heard that Peeta was hijacked. He knew they wanted to see if they might have possibly done some kind of hijacking on Annie as well. He was almost sure that Snow didn't bother to do that to her. He hoped the president didn't. It was, after all, Katniss that Snow seemed to be after more than anyone. Still, it would've been foolish of him not to let them take Annie into consideration. But it didn't matter to him either way. He wasn't going to leave Annie's side. He would stay with her. He would make sure she was okay.

He would take care of her now. Even if she was hijacked to hate him.

After several hours, the nurses tried to get him to go back to his own bed, but he just ignored them. They even threatened to sedate him, but Katniss' mom happened to come by at that time, and for some reason, she offered to keep watch over them. One of the nurses, who obviously ranked higher than Mrs. Everdeen, scowled at her, but accepted her offer anyway.

"If anything happens-"

"You can put all the blame on me. But nothing will happen," said Mrs. Everdeen assuredly. Finnick could've sworn he saw the other nurse's eyes turn catlike as she squinted before moving past the curtain that provided what little privacy they had from other patients in the hospital.

Finnick looked at Katniss' mom curiously. "Thanks."

"There won't be a problem, will there?" Mrs. Everdeen asked Finnick calmly. He only shook his head. Mrs. Everdeen smiled just briefly before she left to give them privacy.

He caressed the top of the frail-looking hand he was holding, and smiled at the small kindness given to them both.

x~~~~~~~x

He caresses her hand again, just as he did back then - just as he does every moment he can. A fleeting thought of the small length of rope that he once clung onto as if it was his life, tying it into knot after knot, enters his mind. He doesn't know where that rope is anymore, nor does he care. The thought passes in the blink of an eye, with the hope that he won't have to tie another knot for a very long time.

Sometimes when she stirs uncomfortably in her sleep, he can't help but lie down beside her, no matter how little space there is on the hospital bed for him. But now, he just sits in the chair next to her, staring at her features. Despite the nightmare that Annie's been through the past couple of months, her face looks no worse for wear now. Her cheekbones are still slightly hollow, but her skin looks surprisingly healthy and flawless. And it feels amazingly soft, as he can attest with all the attention he's been giving her with his hands as well as his lips in the small, light kisses he places upon her.

Although her eyes are closed, he can tell she's awake now, given the change in her breathing and the slightly movement underneath her eyelids. He smiles as he brings the hand he's holding up to his lips. He likes watching her when she's able to sleep peacefully, which hasn't been too often at all these days, but everything within him leaps for joy when he's able to look into her eyes and see that she's staring straight back at him with nothing but adoration.

"Open your eyes for me, my sweet Annie," he whispers to her. Annie blushes, almost laughs even. Finnick can't help but chuckle at her, his lips still against the top of her soft hand. "Please."

It may as well have been the light of dawn breaking for Finnick as her lids open slowly and he's enveloped in the beauty of her emerald green eyes. The smile never leaves her face as she pulls his hand closer to her, urging him to meet her lips with his. They've kissed so many times before, but the overwhelming warmness of this feeling has yet to wane and he smiles in their kiss.

After only a few seconds, the familiar sound of hunger grumbles between them. The funny thing is neither of them seems to know whose stomach is grumbling.

"I guess that's a hint," mumbles Finnick through their kiss, and reluctantly moves to stand. As he's about to release Annie's hand for the first time in hours, she squeezes it, bringing his attention first to her hand, then to her face. "What is it?"

Annie looks at him curiously for a second. "Say it again?" she says quietly.

Finnick's face softens as any slight concern for her person dissipates on hearing her request.

It wasn't a well-thought out poem. It was just words he put together in a desperate moment. He knew the chance of him getting out of the arena alive during the Quarter Quell was slim to none. And he didn't want to leave the world without letting Annie know one last time how much she meant to him, how much he was thinking about her, how much he loved her. He just put simple words on paper. And even after he read it aloud in front of the cameras during his interview with Caesar, he regretted not being able to make it sound more than what a 12-year-old boy might write to his first crush.

But every day since the day they rescued her, Peeta, and Johanna, she'd ask him to recite his poem.

He actually blushes at the thought of it, as he does each time she asks. "Again?" he asks, even with a slight boyish whine.

"Please."

He looks down on her for a second before the smirk creeps onto his lips, and slowly moves onto her bed to lie next to her. Annie doesn't hesitate to give him room. They lie on their sides, facing each other, while he gently places his hand on her waist. Lately, he's been trying to be so careful with the pressure of his touches, not wanting to aggravate any soreness she may have. "You really want to hear it again?"

She only nods.

"Tell me why first, and I'll think about it," Finnick teases.

Annie's eyes seem to shine a little brighter, then focus on Finnick's lips and suddenly her fingers are touching them. He opens his mouth slightly to allow her to feather her thumb across his bottom lip first, then the top. For some odd reason, he tries to keep perfectly still, not even breathe, as if he thinks any sudden movement from him will stop _her_ actions, and right now, even this little action feels so good. He holds in his breath until he can't anymore, and he exhales as slowly as he can, allowing the warmth of air from his mouth to tickle her fingers. She looks up to meet his peaceful gaze.

"It's not that I don't remember the words. I remember all the words. Every single one," she says. "I remembered them after the first time I heard them."

"You did?" he asks. Annie nods, and Finnick adds, "But it was so… unoriginal, though. You deserve better."

"Don't say that," says Annie, her brow crinkling in discontent while her hand that so delicately touched his face now pushes firmly the side of his face, almost pushing him into the pillow his head is on.

"But it's true. You deserve the most beautiful love poem out there. I'm not a poet. I'm just a fisherman who's in love with an amazing girl," he says. He feels a rush of heat in his face, and draws his eyes away from hers, to some undefined spot on her chin.

"Yes, you are," she says, blushing. "Just a fisherman, I mean." Her confirmation at first surprises him, but as he looks back at her eyes, the shine in them did not fade. "That's what makes it so much more… significant than you think. A poet knows how to write poetry, he knows how to draw out emotion from others even though his own heart may not truly be in it… because it's not connected to someone he truly loves. He just knows what words to use and how to make it sound right." As Annie places her hand over his chest, just where his heart is, he covers it with his own. "But someone who writes a poem because his love is real, someone who may not know much about poetry and doesn't care about how silly it sounds, as long as he's able to feel it within him and know that it's true…" she pauses, as if unsure how else to complete her thought, then continues, saying, "that's why I want to hear it. Because every time I hear it, I feel it, and I feel you with it. I don't want to just remember the words, Finnick. I want to remember the emotion that came with it. And I want that emotion and your voice and the power of your words to live and breathe inside of me every time I think of that poem."

It takes a good five seconds for him to say anything after that, and when he finally does say something, the only word that comes out is, "Wow."

Finnick can see Annie's eyes shine brighter with satisfaction. "Now will you please say it again?"

So he does, reciting every phrase by memory, as he's facing her, his hand now gently rubbing small circles on the side of her waist, more confident in its movements, the fear of hurting her gone. He inches himself closer to her, close enough to see the different shades of green that design her eyes so uniquely. Even after several times of previous recitations of the poem, he can truly see how much it takes her in, how she anticipates each word that follows. He no longer feels embarrassment for what he will still probably deem as a silly, childish poem, but he proud in knowing that Annie loves him all the more for it.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick might've felt guilty for ignoring everything else that was going on around his and Annie's little world, but Annie was still physically weak, and he was the only one she really knew. Plus, since her return, and probably during her imprisonment, she was back to retreating into the haziness of her mind quite often. Enough to where he didn't want to leave her alone for too long.

However, one time, during one of Annie's naps, Finnick decides to walk around a bit in the hospital. He isn't really looking for anyone in particular, but he runs into Mrs. Everdeen as she is doing her rounds. She tells him that Katniss has left for District 13. He isn't quite sure what to make of that, but his gut feeling tells him it has something to do with Peeta.

Peeta is still being treated in the hospital, but in more secluded area and no unauthorized personnel are allowed to see him. When he turns to look at Katniss' mom, who is walking alongside him, he sees a peculiar look in her eyes. He's not as intuitive as Annie, but he's pretty sure that there is some shade of regret hovering behind Mrs. Everdeen's blue eyes. He should know; he's all too familiar with it. He had seen it in many eyes before, but this time it reminds him of one set of eyes in particular. That of his brother, Turlach. And if Mrs. Everdeen feels the same regret as his brother did for things he didn't do, things that he felt he could have done, then he knows that Katniss' mom will always have regret. For this reason, he can't help but feel sorry for her and whatever regrets she has, because he knows that at least part of it has to do with Katniss.

Finnick places his hand on her shoulder, and says, "She loves you. Katniss. She does." He doesn't believe it is within Katniss to not love her mom, whatever it was that she did wrong. She cares too much, that he knows.

"Thank you," she says, breaking into his thoughts about the 'Girl on Fire.'

A few minutes later, Finnick finds himself standing just outside the curtain of another patient he knows. He had asked about Johanna when the realization hit him that there were three of them that were rescued from the Capitol. Mrs. Everdeen's face smiled a little when he mentioned her, saying that maybe it would lighten Johanna's mood if she saw a familiar face. Finnick doubted that, but agreed to see her. He realized he did want to see her, to make sure she was okay. She is a friend, after all.

After announcing himself and hearing her okay to do so, he pulls the curtain aside to enter her faux room, and steels himself for what he sees. He had forgotten how much suffering they had actually gone through. Annie's torture bore only the slightest physical impairments compared to Johanna. Annie still has her hair, and even though she has bruises all over, she doesn't have all sizes of scabs and bruises. At least the scabs are healing well enough and it does look like Johanna is gaining back the weight she lost. Still, Finnick has to consciously prevent himself from gasping.

"So, they were finally able to pry your vice-like grip around Annie and force you to pay your good ol' friend a visit, eh?" says Johanna. At least she didn't lose her attitude as Mrs. Everdeen had hinted at, Finnick thinks.

He chuckles at her, partly because he knows if he had shown any sympathy at all right then, she most likely would've jumped right out of her bed just to prove she didn't need any of that. He knows Johanna well enough to know she doesn't seek or want people to feel sorry for her. And she doesn't care to be treated like some helpless little girl. She respects people more when they don't tiptoe around her.

That was one reason why he was able to throw her in the water in the Arena without getting so much as a slap from her. Of course, it helped that not only was Finnick much stronger than her, but that Johanna also knew she was letting out her frustrations at the wrong person. With thoughts of the Arena back in his head, his chuckling stops.

He observes Johanna as she reaches up and squeezes the clear bag full of liquid that is attached to her arm. From what he's heard, aside from the obvious, Johanna didn't care to divulge a whole lot of information as to what exactly happened to her in the Capitol. He isn't going to press the issue, either. He also figures that Johanna will spit it out when she feels the need or desire to.

"I'm pretty sure it's giving you the right dosage already," he says, nodding toward the drip bag that Johanna is still squeezing.

"Just speeding up the healing process is all," explains Johanna. "Besides, I need to get out of here. I've already been cooped up long enough."

"I doubt that's going to help," he says. Johanna scowls, but lets go of the bag, leaning back and pushing the back of her head farther into the pillow in a huff.

There is an awkward silence, and Finnick thinks maybe that's all there is to be said right now, that it's time to leave. He's already been away from Annie for a good thirty minutes now and that is about as long as he wants to be away from her for a single period of time.

"How is your mad girl, anyway?" asks Johanna. For a moment, he glares at her, but he can tell by the look in her eyes and the redness in her cheeks that she probably regretted asking it the way she did.

"Getting better each day. She has an infection in her kidneys, but the doctor says that she'll be fine," he says.

Johanna nods. "Good. Good." She pauses, at first staring at the ceiling, then glancing in his direction, not really at him, but past him. "She was next door."

"Huh?"

"In the room, next to me. We talked sometimes. Sometimes she talked by herself."

Finnick cringes at the thought of Annie going half-mad in there. "What did she say?" He tries not to sound too concerned.

"I don't know, really. I know she mentioned you a few times. Well, more than a few times, I guess. And something about ocean breezes or tides pushing and pulling or something like that." Finnick turns his face downward, the heat rising in his face, knowing that Annie apparently had been reciting the poem during her time there. "You guys are really into all that stuff, huh? Thinking about the water and beaches." He hears her scoff. "Pointless."

Finnick looks back up and squints an eye at her, wondering if she really means that. He is tempted to argue with her about it, and explain that it isn't really about just the water and the sand, but about the fact that it is the comfort that home brings to him and Annie. Plus, it does help that they had fallen in love with each other on those beaches.

But he really doesn't want to get into a debate about it, especially not now. For one thing, he knows that Johanna, as she stated in the Arena, has no one that she loves anymore. All she has is herself, and that even _if_ she has friends in District 7, she apparently isn't all that close to them anyway.

He decides that after they get through this whole war, maybe he could debate to her about how _not_ pointless it is to think about the simple extravagances that home brings to his and Annie's peace of mind. He hopes that he maybe he'll be able to remind her of the beauty that her own district, District 7, holds. Finnick does he remember a little bit about it, such as the magnificence of their surrounding mountainous terrain and the trees that covered them.

"Gotta tell ya, though, I can't say I'll miss it," said Johanna. "Trying to talk with tortured souls isn't quite a pleasant experience, to say the least."

"I'm sorry, Johanna," says Finnick, pity in his tone. "If only there could've been another way-"

"Quit it, Finnick. We're still alive. That's good enough for me," says Johanna abruptly. She squeezes the drip bag again. "And as soon as I can get out of here, I'll be good enough to finish what we started. Right?"

The way she's squeezing the bag, he thinks she might bust it open. "Sure," he says. As he makes his way to the opening of the curtain, Johanna calls back to him, "Hey, Finnick? Look, I'm sorry about Annie. They shouldn't have done that, you know? She shouldn't have been there with us. She wasn't a part of it."

Finnick turns back to look at her. "I know." But in his mind, he doesn't believe that entirely. The fact is she _was_ supposed to be there in the arena with them all, if Snow had gotten his way, which he nearly almost always does. But just because Annie wasn't there in the Arena in person, it didn't mean that she wasn't a part of it. As long as _he_ was in the arena, so was she.

As he walks back to where Annie's room is, he mulls over his conversations, first with Mrs. Everdeen. Mrs. Everdeen and the way she tries to keep herself busy, as if trying to forget the pain of what she's lost and what else she could lose, knowing that Katniss is still out there, fighting in a war that was pretty much instigated by The Girl on Fire.

And then with Johanna. Johanna and her seemingly detached attitude to what has happened to her, during her time in prison, and probably also her time before the Quarter Quell. _I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love. _That's what Johanna had said before. The words clenched at his heart then, and it does so now. As bad as he feels for Johanna and what she's been through, he can't help but think about the fact that, as she pointed, he does still have someone to love.

And he understands without a doubt what needs to be done. This reign under President Snow needs to end, and he needs to find a way to do just that. To be rid of the Hunger Games, and of President Snow. To make sure that there will be no more Johannas or Mrs. Everdeens, or even Haymitchs, in this world to feel pain of loss in this way. He has to find a way to help end this so this will not happen to anyone else ever again. He has to before he ends up being like one of them.

But he also wants to do one other thing as well. Something that is so completely opposite of revenge and hate and death.

x~~~~~~~x

Finnick bends down to rest his arms on the side of her bed, close enough so he can stroke her face. She is tired, even after a nap, as can be seen by the dark shadows under her eyes, but she smiles at his touch. He moves his face close to hers so that their lips are only inches apart. He opens his mouth, then closes it along with his eyes, to make sure he's ready to say what he wants to say. He takes a deep breath and opens his eyes to look at Annie again. Her face is questioning, head tilted in curiosity, but before she can say anything, he finally speaks.

"If I asked you right now to marry me, would you? Would you marry me today?" he asks in a low voice so that no one passing by can hear.

"Of course," she responds without hesitation, as if it's the most normal thing for him to ask her. For a second, he's not sure what to say, and is somewhat surprised at how easily it was for her to agree to it.

He knows there's usually some kind of prepping involved when one asks such a life-changing question, and for a moment, he wonders if he should wait to formally ask her. But why? He knows what he wants, and now he knows that she wants it, too. For them to be together. Would it be foolish for them to try to marry during such a time as this, when they're at war and people are dying, or starving, or being tortured? Or would it be more foolish to wait for it all to end? What if this could be their only piece of ultimate happiness? What if, in the end, everything is lost and they've changed to where they no longer feel that same love? Wouldn't it be better to wait, and make sure they're all safe and free from all this pain?

No. Not for Finnick. He has been through enough, and he wants this happiness, and he knows he cannot wait for the end of this war. Waiting for things to change has done them no good so far. And he wants this to be good for both him and Annie. No, he's done waiting. He wants to start a new beginning with Annie, and he wants to start it now.

"Marry me?" he whispers the question to her. She grabs the hand that's stroking her face and kisses his fingertips, leaving her lips against them.

"Yes," she murmurs, allowing him the pleasure of feeling her soft lips move against his fingers as she does so. Her warm breath flows through the spaces in between, and it is as if he is revitalized by just her air, and it is wonderful.

"Really?" he says, in an almost goofy manner. She nods, squeezing his hand in reassurance.

"Yes… as long as you say _it_ again." _The poem._

He smiles at her. A smirk, really.

"I love you, my sweet. My Annie. I will yell out anything you want me to for all the sea and all the creatures under it to hear, as many times as you want, as long as you'll be mine."

Annie laughs lightly, unable to physically do much more than that. At least her eyes gleam emerald green with what Finnick can only describe as a gold shimmer in them. He moves in closer to her, wrapping his arms around her as hard as he can without doing her harm, which isn't hard at all, but only because he's afraid to hurt her. He's whispering in her hair now, which strangely smells of sweet strawberries, and feels of the finest silk against his lips. "Annie, my sweet, sweet girl. I love, love, love you and I will _never_ let you go."

"I know. I love you, too, my beautiful Finnick. And I will marry you and be with you with all I am. I promise."

He can't help but whisper her name again and again, as he feels her name, like everything else about her, is rejuvenation to every part of him. _Annie. Annie. Annie Odair._

X~~~~~~~x

Later that night, Annie is sitting up, staring at Finnick as he returns from getting something to eat. She has an odd look on her face.

"Annie? Are you okay?" asks Finnick, immediately by her bedside.

"You asked me to marry you," she says cautiously, as if trying to confirm the events of that afternoon.

He's not sure whether to smile to reassure her, or if she's having second thoughts.

"Yes, I did," he says.

Two long painstaking seconds later, the corners of Annie's mouth turn up and she nods.

"Okay, good. I was scared I dreamt it all. That it wasn't real," she says squeezing the hand she didn't realize was holding hers until that moment.

"Not this time. This is real."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Wow, I know the gap between this chapter and the last was long (I must apologize, sorry!), and it will probably take a while for the next chapter as well (hopefully not as long), as I've had other real-life issues to distract my mind lately, one of that being my dog, who is now recovering from having a tumor removed from my back.

Plus, I no longer want to rush the chapters as it's so close to the end. I had planned on this being the last chapter, but nope. This story refuses to end, but I do need to end this soon, so probably the next chapter will be the final one? We shall see!

Anyway, hope you liked this one. Positive feedback and constructive criticism are welcome! :)


	33. Chapter 32

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place in the days and weeks after Finnick & Annie's wedding.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: This is the final chapter before the Epilogue, and it IS canon, so I will add the warning that there is also TRAGEDY. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Johanna Mason, Mrs. Everdeen, Plutarch Heavensbee, Boggs**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>Chapter 32: BEYOND FOREVER<p>

Finnick would have married Annie the day he asked her. But he made the mistake of announcing it to quite a few people, including Plutarch Heavensbee. And now Plutarch had plans for how he wanted it to go, to make it a special affair.

"For the cameras, of course. People love a good show," Plutarch had said.

Finnick immediately wanted to object, but somehow Plutarch convinced him that it would be a great metaphorical slap-in-the-face to President Snow to have something like a wedding between two victors, who were very close to death more than once, were able to escape from his clutches only to marry that same year.

Also, Plutarch did mention that it would be something very lovely for the people of District 13 to be involved in, as they have not had the opportunity in quite some time to put on such a celebratory affair. So, Finnick asked Annie if she was willing to make it a public affair, and surprisingly, she did not object to the idea at all.

A couple of weeks later, Katniss was flown back from District 2 after having been shot at. A part of Finnick did want to see her, but now that Annie was out of the hospital, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving her when she was still unfamiliar both with the people and with how things went around here. He was still adjusting to the stringent procedures that District 13 had enforced upon everyone.

The wedding came and it was as wonderful as they could've imagined it to be, despite the fact that they weren't even in District 4. It didn't matter, though. They were together and bonded to each other now as husband and wife. Ever since his name was called for the Quarter Quell, it wasn't something he even hoped for at the time. It was just too impossible an event for him to hope for.

But it happened anyway. He could see it in Annie's eyes, and in her smile, and in the way that she spoke her vows. She was as lucid as any sane person could be, speaking the words confidently and without any concern for anyone else who was watching them. And she was beautiful beyond words. His eyes were on her and her eyes on him and it was perfect.

They kissed. They danced and ate cake. They laughed, and held each other's hands as if they were glued to each other.

And then it was time to move into their new room. Once Finnick and Annie, formally Mr. and Mrs. Odair, entered their room, they wondered if they would ever want to leave. Ever.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie feels his body all around her, as if he is a protective shield. A warm, strong shield that keeps her safe from anything and everything that threatens to hurt her. She edges her back firmly against his chest, closing the millimeter of space that brought in the slightest cold air right in the middle of her lower back. His arm that lay still across her waist now squeezes her even closer to him to ensure the air doesn't enter again between them. To ensure not only protection for her, but comfort as well.

She slowly caresses the arm holding her, feeling every curve of his muscles with her fingertips. The short hair on his arms never felt so soft and lovely to her. Maybe she had never noticed it before, but she notices it now.

Annie knows it's not a dream, nor is it a made up notion in her mind. He told her enough times that night.

_You're here, with me._

_Yes._

_I'm not dreaming._

_No, you're not._

_This is real?_

_Yes, my sweet Annie. This is all real._

_I'm not crazy._

_No, you're not. We're together. _

_Love me._

_I do. I will. Forever._

She knows forever isn't possible, but she didn't contradict his statement then. She was in bliss when he said it. She is in bliss now just thinking about it. Recalling their intimate time together on their first night as husband and wife makes her heady and breathless just thinking about it. The gentleness in his touch, the desire in his eyes, the scent that is distinctly him – it made her feel alive being wrapped in his arms, and truly and passionately loved, just as it does right now. Finnick squeezes her lightly around the waist again and she squeezes his arm back. His lips press against the back of her head, then against the top of her shoulder.

It is still much too early in the morning for them to be up. Although their room doesn't have a window, Annie has a feeling the sun hasn't even risen yet. She wonders how close they are to the coast. Would they be able to see a sunrise from the waters on this side of the nation? Not that they would be able to travel there anytime soon, but maybe when the war ends, she and Finnick can go there. To District 13's beach and see a sunrise. Maybe. The idea makes her anxious for the future.

She wonders if they would make District 13 their permanent home on this side. But if she were to honest with herself, it really doesn't matter where they make their home, as long as they're together. She'll stay here, underground, for the rest of her life if they have to to stay together. These people in 13 have been able to do so all these years, so she knows it's possible.

Her only wish is for this war to end. For the fighting to stop. For the Games to stop. She knows her nightmares may never stop, though, but she will be glad for all that they do now if it means an end to the Hunger Games. For all that the Games destroyed, the one silver lining is that it brought her and Finnick together.

Looking back, she never would have thought that Finnick Odair, the most beautiful man in Panem, the supposed sex symbol, who spent all his time during each of the Games after his own victory, charming and womanizing as many as possible, whose flirtatiousness she deemed unworthy of attention, would end up being the one man in the world who opened his true heart to her and showed her all his vulnerabilities, sensitivity, and love. She prided herself in being able to see through people, and she probably did see through his façade, but was scared of it. Scared to open herself to him, for fear that she could be wrong. That he could hurt her. Or worse, that she could lose him.

She did lose him. Several times now. But he always came back to her. And she to him. She wants to feel confident in knowing that after all they've been through so far, they seem to always find a way back to each other. As much as she feels safe and loved in his arms at this moment, she will always have that fear that one day… no. She refuses to let that thought continue. Not today. Not now. A cold chill runs up her spine and her body shivers involuntarily from it.

Finnick places another kiss on her, this time on her neck, squeezing her even closer to him. She feels herself warm under his lips and she smiles, expressing her approval through a soft moan. "Cold?" Finnick whispers. She shakes her head no. He presses his lips against her shoulder again.

"My sweet Annie," he mumbles with his mouth still against her skin. "Annie Odair."

"We're together," Annie says in amazement. She feels his lips curl up in a grin, kissing another spot on her neck. Then he moves up, propping up his other arm to rest his head on his hand and look down on her face. Annie turns to look up at him. Even though they don't have a window, she can still see his eyes in the soft light of the candle near their bed. _Their_ bed. He moves the arm that was around her waist up to her face, cupping her cheek.

"Yes, we are. This _is_ real. You know that, right?"

Annie nods first, then says, "I do. I think- I just think I need you to remind me every so often."

She doesn't remember seeing Finnick's eyes glisten like they do at that moment, but she hopes it's not a one-time thing.

"I'll remind you as much as you need me to," he says softly.

She turns herself until her back is flat on the bed and she's looking straight into his eyes. She allows herself the enjoyment of admiring the beauty of his face, first touching his cheek, feeling it against her palm, and sliding her hand down so that her fingers touch his lips, grazing over the bottom one. He closes his eyes and kisses her fingertips.

"This- this night- this should have been my first time. _You_ should have been my first," she says, her voice slightly trembling. Her face goes flush from embarrassment from revealing something so sensitive from her past. She senses the tension in his body as his eyes and corners of his mouth turn downward.

"I know. I'm so sorry. It hurts me so much knowing what you had to go through alone. I wish-, I wish I had done more. I wish I had known you sooner. I wish we grew up together," he tells her. She feels her heart flutter at sincerity of his words, all the while feeling the dull ache that comes with bringing up bad memories. She pushes the thought quickly aside as Finnick gently grasps her hand in his. "But I'm with you now. I will do anything and everything I can to keep you safe. You believe me, right?"

"Yes, I believe you," she says. _And I'm scared for you._ "I love you, Finnick. I love, I love, I love you."

He lowers his head to touch his lips with hers and that exhilaration engulfs her again, as well as a sense of being safe from the terrors of the world. Her hand slides to the back of his neck, and she holds him tightly to her, wanting his warmth to cover her completely. _I love you, my Finnick._

In the moments before they fall into slumber again, without even her requesting it, he whispers the words of his poem into her ear. Not that she needs to be reminded of his love and admiration for her at that moment, but she welcomes his words all the same, allowing them to soothe her rapidly beating heart. She can't remember ever having a better night than the one she had just shared with him.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Too soon. It's all too soon before Finnick is already requested – no, required – to show up for training. It's only been a few days since his wedding, and that he should be grateful that they even allowed him that much time to spend with Annie alone. He _is_ grateful. He owes a great deal to District 13 for sending out a group to save Annie. To him, it didn't matter that the main focus was on rescuing Peeta for Katniss, but he knows they risked more danger with adding Annie and Johanna to the list.

Still, he can't help but want more time to spend with Annie in complete bliss, with no one else bothering them. But he knows they can't stay in their room forever. He also knows that in order for them to continue, to live freely and without consequence, he and Annie will have to do their part to make it happen.

His part is already set. It literally hurts him to think of being away from Annie again, but he wants to be there when they get Snow. He doesn't care if Snow is alive or dead, he just wants to be there.

So, despite his mental protestations about going into training, he will do it if that's to be his reward. He tells Boggs his conditions if they want him to continue to fight, which is for him to be on the team that gets to take down President Snow.

Boggs gives him a curious look, and says, "I'm pretty sure something like that is in the works. Just get back to training as soon as you can. The sooner, the better."

Finnick wants to say more, to get confirmation that he will be on that team, but it might be pushing it, so he just nods and leaves to join Annie back in their room. By the time he gets to their room, he thinks he's ready to talk to her about it, but when he enters and sees her face brighten upon his return, all thoughts of training go right out the door before he closes it.

It isn't until later that night, when she's wrapped up in his arms, does the thought linger again. He needs to tell her now because there's no point in waiting for a "right time" when there really isn't such a thing. But will she understand? Will she fall back into her haze again? She's been doing so well lately.

Annie still has brief moments of murmuring and ill-timed laughing, but he's always been able to get her to focus when he speaks to her, sometimes reciting the poem in her ear. It's his way of getting through to her when no one else can. He hates that she has these moments - a reminder of what she's been through, and even though he feels guilty for thinking it, a little part of him relishes in the fact that only he can bring her back, that she _needs_ him. That he's important in that way, instead of just a victor, a sex symbol, or a rebel fighter, makes him feel worth much more than any of those labels ever could. Loving husband, loyal friend, faithful companion, those are the labels he'll readily accept. And it's all because of Annie. It's all _for_ Annie.

"Annie…" he starts, waiting for her to respond in some way where he knows she's listening.

"You're going to fight, aren't you?" says Annie. With her back pressed up against his chest and his arm around her, she laces her fingers with his, as if to keep him from letting her go.

He doesn't say anything at first, but he plants a kiss on the back of her head, taking in the scent of her hair that reminds him of home even though they haven't been to District 4 in months. "Are you angry?"

It's her turn to keep silent now, and he's afraid of what this will mean for them, for her state of mind. He continues. "It'll be a while before they actually call me to an assignment. We'll still need time to train and that'll be a few weeks still-"

"It's okay," says Annie, cutting him off.

As if he didn't quite understand what she meant, he continues, saying, "I know it's not okay, Annie, but it won't be okay until-"

"Finnick," she turns around in his arms and touches his face to stop him mid-sentence and get his full attention, which he finally gives her. There's a rare look in her eyes. It's a mix of fear and certainty and he only barely remembers the last time he's seen it on her face. It was the night he went to help rescue the rebels who were caught and taken in to the town square of District 4.

Something twists in his chest at the sight of her face now, at the sight of her fear that she's trying desperately to hide from him. To be brave for him.

"It's okay," continues Annie. "I know you have to. They need you, I know that." She pauses, but doesn't seem to want to finish. He tilts his head to try to look at her face, and he sees the corners of her mouth fighting to keep from frowning, her eyes looking anywhere else but straight into his eyes.

"Annie, look at me. Please."

When she does, he just stares at her, looking into them, searching for what she's truly saying in her heart, what she can't say with her mouth. And when he sees it, he exhales in realization.

He sees her. He knows how she's feeling, as much as he knows his own feelings in the matter. She is scared for his safety, that is obvious, but it's more than that. Even though he's survived two Hunger Games, it doesn't assuage the fact of what could still happen to him. She's not just scared of him being killed – no, that would be too easy after all that they've been through – but if he understands his wife correctly, she is ultimately frightened of how the war will affect him as much as how it will affect her, maybe even more so.

She's scared of what he may end up like after the war, and not just physically. In many ways, the mental deterioration of a person would be more devastating than death, especially to Annie. He knows she would ultimately not be able to take care of him as much as he has taken care of her. Could he even allow her to deal with such an issue? The subject of her fears is as clear as the rays of sunlight through the clouds in District 4 in the early morning hours - what if he's too lost in his mind to continue taking care of Annie? What if he's too lost in his mind to _love_ her as he has grown to do these past five years?

With this understanding, he gives her the lightest of kisses, like a soft feather that brushes against her lips. He looks at Annie with confidence, not the kind that he used to display to the people of the Capitol, but the kind of confidence that comes with knowing who he truly is. "Oh Annie, you won't lose me. Not that way." Her eyes widen just a bit for a split second. "Not that way. You know why?"

"Why?" she whispers, almost afraid to know.

He gently cups the side of her face, his thumb softly grazing her cheek. "Because I'm only complete when I'm with you. Nothing will change that."

"But what they did to Peeta, he couldn't help it-"

"That won't happen. I promise you," he says, his voice unwavering.

This time, Annie shakes her head, even though Finnick's hand is still touching her face with gently caresses. "You can't promise that."

His hand stops and he looks at her, now unsure of what to say to help ease her mind about what he has to do. "Annie-"

"I know you have to," she repeats her statement from before. And he realizes that even though she is still scared of his assignment, she won't stop him from doing what they need him to do. She pulls his head to hers so they are touching. "You can only promise me that whatever you do… you'll _try_ to come back to me."

Finnick's eyes flicker back and forth from hers, as if trying to make her understand him this time. "Annie, I promise I will try… and I _will_ come back to you. You're the only thing I have left in this world. I wouldn't be able to do any of this _without_ you, without knowing that I have something, _someone_, to come back to. I will always come back to you, because you are my home."

Annie's eyes glisten with tears that stay on the edge until she blinks. As Finnick wipes them away with his fingers, he follows their trails with kisses, eventually finding their way to her lips again.

_Yes_, he says to himself. _This is home. _

**x~~~~~~~x**

Despite not having done any real physical work since they escaped the Quarter Quell, it doesn't take long for Finnick to get back into shape and the training is easier on him than he thought it would be. He won't admit it to Annie, but a part of him is quite happy having to do something useful and that requires hard work – after all, he hadn't really been anything but a nuisance since they arrived in District 13.

At the same time, he takes every chance he gets to spend with Annie, no matter how short the amount of time is. She is always on his thoughts when he's not with her, including in training, but luckily it hasn't really distracted him in a bad way. In fact, it seems to help him somehow get through the days faster, which is unusual, but it does. He has found his balance through it all.

It's no surprise that they haven't really found something for Annie to do, as everyone does their share of work around the district, but her doctor didn't feel it would help her case at this point to charge her with any sort of routine, so when Annie is actually alert, oddly enough she tends to make her way to the hospital.

No sooner had she come in the first time after being released from the hospital that Mrs. Everdeen noticed her wandering the area. It seemed that Mrs. Everdeen had known Annie wasn't required to be anywhere specific once she glanced at the bracelet around her wrist that explained her condition. She really wasn't allowed free reign everywhere in District 13, but nobody in the hospital ward made her leave. As long as Annie wasn't in the way, she supposed there would be no problems with her there.

It is during one of these walks that she finds a section that's not as busy as the other sections. Rows of cribs line up each wall, but only a few are actually occupied by a newborn. The nurse in charge of that section looks at Annie warily.

"Are you supposed to be here?" the nurse asks.

Annie doesn't look at her, but stares at the sea of cribs. "It's so quiet here."

"Annie?" a familiar gentle voice utters behind her. "You can't be here. Only the parents of the babies are allowed in there. Let's walk somewhere else."

Mrs. Everdeen puts hands on Annie's shoulders and guides her in a different direction, away from the quiet baby ward. They walk in silence for a few minutes before Annie's question finally pops out of her mouth.

"Aren't there supposed to be more?" asks Annie.

Mrs. Everdeen doesn't look at Annie, but the tension in her face tells Annie that she's trying to come up with some answer.

"I don't think it's really my place to say, but yes, there are supposed to be more. But many of them can't have children anymore. So, there are less than half that are able to still have babies."

Annie's mind doesn't quite know how to respond to that. The idea of a whole district watching their population dwindle down to nothing, without being able to do anything about it… unless you found more people outside your district.

"They want to keep us here," says Annie. It's more of a statement than a question. Mrs. Everdeen doesn't say anything, but Annie knows it's true, at least partly. Annie is mindful enough to know that it isn't necessarily the kindest motive for District 13, or President Coin, to have in helping the rest of them out in this war, but whatever the reason, it's what brought her and Finnick back together. "I don't care as long as I'm with Finnick."

She feels Mrs. Everdeen's stare and she turns to see her smile. "Of course."

**x~~~~~~~x**

Annie gazes at his face. She's made it a point to memorize as much of his features as possible. She likes being able to close her eyes and still see him in her mind, exactly how he looks. She loves the way his hair changes color when he moves under the lights in the dining room. It's a horrible kind of light, though. Not like the natural light of the sun or the moon, but his hair is still able to change color under them.

She's entranced when she sees the shades of sea foam green swirl in his eyes, as if they were of the sea themselves. Her heart thumps just a bit harder when she notices the corners of Finnick's mouth turn up and his cheeks turn a darker shade, as if he's blushing for some unfathomable reason.

It's not that she hasn't seen these nuances in her husband before, but they mean so much more now. They are a part of her world, a world she thought she would never have again. She doesn't want to take it for granted. She wants every second with Finnick to be as memorable as their first touch, their first kiss, their wedding night.

Mornings like this one, where she's the first one awake, gives her a chance to take it all in. Sometimes she has to ask him, especially after a trying day or after being away from him for too long because of his training, if they're really married.

_Yes, we are_, he would say with his most sincere look. Sometimes she wonders if it hurts him that she asks that question, as if she had forgotten. As if she had lost that part of her memory. But it's just the opposite.

_It just seems too perfect, too much of a dream for it to be real. I remember, Finnick. I remember it like a dream that I never want to wake from. And it's real._ She told him that once before. And she remembered his smile then, too.

Being lost in her memory of that moment, Annie at first doesn't notice that Finnick is now awake and gazing right back at her. But when she does notice, it's as if she's in a dream again, watching the corners of his mouth turn up and the swirling green in his sleepy eyes.

They don't speak for a long time. They just soak in each other's features, Annie's fingers gently running through his hair. He moves in closer to her, and her heart suddenly beats stronger in her chest, faster. He pulls her to him until, feeling his warmth against her skin, and he kisses her, softly on the lips, trailing more soft kisses from her lips down to her neck and then finally stopping just below her ear.

Annie lets out the breath she didn't know she was holding, and she sighs in his embrace, knowing that she will never tire of his touch, whether it is a soft caress of her skin during quiet moments or the tight hold of his arms as they're enveloped in each other's embrace in uninhibited passion. Either way, it always felt right, just as it does at that moment.

It's not until about an hour later, as he holds her with her head resting on his chest, that the thoughts of babies come drifting into her mind, her subconscious bringing back the memory of the many empty cribs in the hospital's baby section.

"Is it bad that I want a baby?" she asks in a low tone, almost too low to hear.

"What?"

"Is it bad that I want a baby?" she repeats, then adds, "Knowing what could happen to him when he- when he turns 13? I'm selfish for wanting it, aren't I?"

"Annie-"

"I am," she says as she sits up to face her husband. She's almost embarrassed to look at him, but she forces herself to stay put. "I'm bad for even thinking of wanting a baby now, with what's going on – with everything. With me. Aren't I?"

Finnick sighs, sits up to look straight into her eyes and slides his hand behind her neck to pull her head closer to his, almost close enough to kiss. He gives her a crooked smile and her stomach churns just a little from his reaction, knowing that he's going to agree with her. He's going to tell her that she's being completely selfish and it's a horrible thing to think of.

"Annie, you are not bad." He enunciates each word with precision, as if trying to make himself clear even though he's literally an inch away from her face. "You are not selfish. You have always been true to yourself and everyone around you. It's not bad to want a child. I love you for wanting one."

Annie almost asks him to repeat himself, but she just lets out a breath in relief and smiles, moving her head forward just that one inch more so their foreheads touch.

"Although," he continues in a lighter tone, "the timing _could_ be a little odd."

She laughs, a little louder than she means to, realizing that it's still a little too early yet for such a burst of noise, but that only makes her laugh again. The look on Finnick's face is at first of surprise, but as she continues laughing out loud in a way that he hasn't really heard from her in a long time, he has to laugh with her. Annie can't help but fall back on the bed in laughter. She knows she should stop because she doesn't want to bother their neighbors in their rooms, but it just feels so good to laugh and smile and feel genuinely happy.

When she finally is able to stop, she takes a big breath and looks up at her husband, who's looking down at her with a content expression on his face. He strokes her hair, and just that motion brings tingles to her cheeks and down her spine, right to the tips of her fingers and toes.

"I love you, Finnick. I want us to have a baby," she says decidedly. "But I'm scared."

"Of what?"

She purses her lips a little, hesitant to say it aloud for some reason, as if saying it aloud would make it true. Finnick repeats his question, a little softer than before.

"What if…what if I can't have babies?"

"Why would you think that?"

Again, Annie hesitates, looking away from his curious eyes. She hears him suck in some air, and even though she wants him to know the reason why she _would_ think that, seeing that comprehension dawns on him makes her cringe anyway.

"Because of- of _him_," Finnick croaks, not saying Garcen's name aloud, but knowing that's exactly who she's thinking of. She had spent more than a couple of forced moments with the former Head Peacekeeper of District 4, and yet she had not once been impregnated by him. Annie had never thought about this fact until she had her conversation with Mrs. Everdeen earlier that day, after she had seen the nearly empty baby ward. Ever since then, throughout the day, the thought kept popping into her head.

_What if I'm sterile, too? What if I can never have children?_

Of course, that thought hid itself away as soon as her eyes met Finnick's later in the afternoon. Yet here it is, popping itself back out again, forcing her to face it. The thought that she may never be able to create a human life with her husband, one that would be evidence of their union - of their love – threatens to rip through her heart like a dirty, jagged, rusty knife.

How just a thought can do such a thing is beyond her.

She feels the tips of his fingers slide along her jaw and gently turn her face to look back at him again. When she does, she sees his half smile and a slight sadness in his eyes. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then closes it again. His half smile turns into a half frown and a vertical crease between his eyebrows form.

She wonders if he's disappointed or just unsure of what to say. Before she has time to hope for the latter, he lowers his face closer to hers and presses his lips right in the center of her forehead, holding it there. It is the gentlest kind of kiss he can give her at that moment, the kind of kiss that tells her that she means more to him than he can say – the kind of intimate kiss that goes beyond the physical. She doesn't know a word for that kind of intimacy. But she feels it.

And it gives her hope.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Finnick stands outside the door. He thinks that maybe he should've gotten Annie, but then again, Annie might not be able to handle this. He's gotten really good at reading Annie's thoughts before, and even more so now that they've spent so much time together, holding her in some way or another. Listening to her breath in her sleep, the way she walks, the way she looks away when she's not sure of how he's going to react to her. As if he could ever be disappointed or upset with her. He's been slowly getting it through to Annie that it's just not possible for that to happen, but Annie is still mending. Too many past hurts still haunt her. He knows he's getting through, though.

So, even though he would like to bring Annie with him everywhere he goes when he's not training, he knows that this time it's best to have do this without her. For both Annie's and Johanna's sakes.

He knocks on the hospital room door, waits a couple of seconds, and turns the knob. For some reason, he has a feeling that Johanna won't tell him to come in.

"Johanna?" he says low but firm. She doesn't answer, but he sees that she's lying in bed, awake. Her mouth is closed tight and she looks… defeated. He has never seen her like this before – her shoulders slumped over, her eyes red and sunken in a little, her chest caved in. Johanna may have looked tired or even sad before, but never defeated. Yes, he's definitely glad he didn't bring Annie.

Johanna turns to look at him and straightens herself up, forcing intensity in her weary eyes. "Why do _you_ look uncomfortable? You're not the one stuck in this bed like a sick-in-the-head pathetic wimp of a person."

Finnick's insides twist and it probably shows on his face, because Johanna curses quietly to herself. "Sorry, Finnick."

"It's okay. I'd be upset, too." And he would be if the situation were reversed. "Look, Johanna-"

"Finnick, don't. Don't say you're sorry or that you wish things were different or anything like that. The best thing you can do is end this thing. Kill Snow. Kill them all, I don't care. I'm just tired of it."

"We all are."

She looks at him with hard eyes. If Finnick didn't know her, he probably would've thought she'd jump out of bed and pummel him into the ground, but no part of him is trembling in fear of her. He just looks straight back at her, his eyes alert and wide with assurance of their bond as friends. She relents and takes a deep breath in, then out. "So you'll do it?"

"That's the plan."

She gives him a nod. "Good."

Immediately after that, her shoulders somewhat slump over once again and the look of defeat returns in her eyes, now clouded over like a dark storm. A dark, sad storm. He faintly remembers seeing her when the rescue team came back. She was the first one they brought in. Her whole body looked beaten and distorted, her hair ripped out of her head, making her look more like a disfigured muttation of the real Johanna. Finnick never thought about it before, but he would admit to her being pretty. Yes, Johanna was very pretty, and they took her beauty away.

But he's not talking just about her outward beauty. There was beauty in her fierceness, too. That's the best of what they took from her. They tortured the ferocity out of her and instilled fear and uncertainty instead.

He wants to give her her beauty back. "Johanna," he says, putting his hand firmly on her shoulder. He didn't remember taking steps toward her. She looks up at him in surprise. "We're going to do it. We're going to win. We have to."

She finally gives him a crooked smile. It's not the same sassy smile she normally gives, but it's good enough for now. He hopes to see her old smile again after this. "Thanks."

Just as he's about to leave her to rest, she calls him, this time with a softer tone. He turns to face her, just as he did the last time he visited her in the hospital.

"Sorry about what I said." Finnick looks at her, confusion set in his face. "During lunch that one time. I said that thing about the screaming. I shouldn't have said it. I knew you guys were there, and I said it anyway. So… sorry." Finnick chuckles under his breath. Clearly Johanna doesn't say the word "sorry" often as he can tell by the way she mumbled it out. Just then a thought occurs to him.

"Would it be too much to ask you to make up for it by keeping an eye out for Annie while we're out there?" he asks somewhat shyly.

She sighs in exasperation. "You've got to be kidding me."

Two steps and he's kneeling next to her, giving her the most pleading look he can. "Please, Johanna. I know you hate being here and you'd rather be out there with us, but I'm asking you… as a friend… to… just look in on her every once in a while. Make sure she's doing okay."

"You know, I think I liked the self-centered flirtatious Finnick better. I hate it when people beg. It's pathetic."

Finnick would not be dissuaded by her comment. He keeps his pleading eyes on her and shakes his head. "It's too tiresome being that guy. I'm done with playing games. And I'll be as pathetic as possible if I need to," he says, this time grabbing her hand and squeezing it.

Johanna tries to pull her hand away half-heartedly, but he holds on. "C'mon Finnick. She's probably doing better than me right now-" It's probably true, but he doesn't care.

"Please! If you want, I- I'll get one of Katniss' dresses for you." Johanna rolls her eyes. He knows that was actually a pathetic offer. "Okay, I'lI- I'll bring Snow's head on a silver platter then." He knows lying isn't really a better option, either, but he didn't know what else to say to convince her. Johanna, as standoffish as she is, just seems to be the best way he could keep Annie safe while he's off fighting this crazy war. And maybe a little subconscious part of him thinks that giving Johanna something to do, even if it's something as simple as keeping an eye on Annie, would help her. Maybe.

She scoffs. "That's a waste of a silver platter. Why would you think Annie would want me around? I'm the girl with the bad manners, you know. I'm the one that says the wrong things, remember?"

Of course he remembers, but he's not going to let that hinder this plan of his. She's still the best option.

"Johanna," he says her name so calmly that she has to look at him. "She won't have anyone when I'm gone. You know how that feels, don't you?"

He hopes his final statement sparks some sentiment in her. Johanna rubs the palms of her hands into her eyes while muttering something unintelligible. Five seconds later, she quickly removes her hands and slaps them down on her lap.

"Okay, fine!"

He suddenly finds himself with his arms around her neck, practically choking her before he releases her, clumsily getting up off the floor. "Thank you! Johanna, I owe you!"

"Yeah, a head on a silver platter!" She huffs as he gives her a wink and a smile before he leaves.

"You're lucky you're so freaking handsome, you idiot!" Johanna yells through the door, but Finnick can only chuckle at that.

**x~~~~~~~x**

It had been a few days since Finnick asked Johanna to be his "eyes and ears" for him for when he leaves to fight in a war that they started, a war that Johanna wants to be in more than he does. Especially now.  
>Ever since he was reunited with Annie, whom he still cannot believe is now his wife, his beautiful wife, the thought of leaving her alone, this time voluntarily, pierces at his heart every time he thinks about it, like a white-hot dagger stabbing into his chest repeatedly. It's sometimes so painful that he wonders if he's actually bleeding, and he has to grip at his chest just to make sure he doesn't feel blood on his shirt. This morning is one of those times. Lying there in the bed with her, gazing on her as she sleeps, he sees the strains that have permanently imprinted themselves on her face. They are deeper than they were before... before she was taken from him.<p>

Strands of her hair fall across her face, and he's tempted to brush them away, but he doesn't want to wake her. As much as the lines of past pain show on her face, he still is able to see beyond that and see how beautiful she truly is. He doesn't care what anyone thinks of her, even if she does odd things, or laughs in off times, she will always be beautiful to him. He will always love her. They've been through too much through the years, both before they met and after. He thinks that maybe from the very beginning, when she first gave him that terrified yet fierce face, he had already started to like her.

"My sweet Annie," he whispers. Her eyes shift underneath her lids, unconscious to his words. "You're so strong. You always have been."

His wife breathes silently in front of him. He wonders if she even knows just how much she affects him; how, to him, even her sighs seep into his skin, saturating him with wonderful warmth only she could give, the kind that melts his heart like nothing else can.

_Does she even know? _

He thinks to himself why some words sound so simple, but mean so much that even the word itself is not enough to really define its meaning.

"I love you. I love you so much," he continues in his lowest, softest voice. "You are my one reason, my only reason to be hopeful for our future. I can't wait for us to go back to our home. I can't wait to have children with you... because you will. I know you will. And we can name our children after..." he takes a deep breath before continuing, "after those who also loved us. We can honor them that way. You and me, Annie."

The hair that so lazily fell across his wife's face threatens to tickle her nose at the mention of her name. She doesn't wake, but she unconsciously moves herself closer to him, and he does what comes naturally, wrapping her arm protectively around her. He does not want to wake her, but at the same time, he wants her to hear him.

Finnick was never scared to open up to Annie about his feelings before, but for some reason, he found he couldn't say what he had just said to her while she was awake. Maybe because that was too much to hope for in a future that wasn't really set, during a time that's dangerous for them all. And maybe it's because it's a statement that is meant for himself more than for her.

Two more days and he has to leave on a hovercraft with Katniss, Gale, and the rest of the Star Squad. It doesn't matter that the group he's in isn't going to be on the front lines. There's still a war out there, so there's always the possibility of danger. There was no point in trying to tone down the assignment to Annie. The fact that he was going to be away was already more than enough to make this hard on both of them anyway. He's going to have to make the most of their time together until then – spending it together as they were right at that moment just makes sense.

He bends his head down to press his lips against her head before closing his eyes to sleep in the comfort of their bed. But as he does, Annie's arms slowly move out from between them and her fingers gently slide up his back and pull him closer to her, as if waking from a restful slumber.

Maybe, he smiles, sleep isn't in his immediate future after all.

**x~~~~~~~x**

It isn't long enough. But then again, it didn't matter if they had a lifetime together before he had to leave to go with rest of Squad 451, Annie would still feel that it isn't long enough.

She didn't have enough time to show him how much he means to her, as if he doesn't know, but it doesn't matter. Not at that moment. Today is the day. In a few hours, he'll be off on a hovercraft, away from her, for who knows how long.

"It'll be done before you start missing me," he tells her as they lay facing each other in their bed, wrapped up one last time in each other's embrace. She pulls herself as close as she can to him, leaning the side of her face against his chest as he kisses the top of her head.

She doesn't know what to say at first, because she doesn't want to tell him that she already misses him. It would hurt him to know that, and to have him leave with that thought would not make either of them feel good. That's the last thing she wants him to feel before he goes.

"I know."

"Remember," he says as runs his fingers through her hair soothingly, "this is just one more assignment, then we can go home, and we won't have to deal with assignments or the Capitol or Snow or anyone else ever again. Just you and me, Annie."

"You and me." She pulls back to look up at him. "That's it?"

A smirk crosses his face. "And our future."

She wants to be brave for him, but she can't help herself from this one relapse in confidence. "Finnick… I'm scared." She could see the lines between his eyes grow deep with concern, but she looks away immediately. "Can I be selfish and ask you not to go?" She instantly regrets saying such a thing, but she can't deny that a part of her really wants him to stay with her, even though she knows he can be useful in this war. She hates to think of him in any sort of danger again, especially after having to see him in the Games and only just getting back together with him. Sure, they were able to get married and they've had nothing but a blissful time together since, but they haven't had enough time. Not yet. Not even close.

He pulls her closer to him, not saying anything for a while.

"Do you really want me to stay?"

"Yes," Annie says abruptly. And right at that moment, the image of the near-empty baby ward invades her mind, reminding her that they are not the only ones risking their lives. That there are many others whose lives are at stake here, whose futures may be lost, or worse, may continue in something even worse than the Hunger Games, takes hold of her conscience. If Finnick's part in this could help restore a hopeful future not just for them, but for everyone else, shouldn't she let him go?

Could she be so selfish as to want her Finnick to stay while the rest of them fight? So many people have been lost in her life, and she knows that she isn't the only one. She knows if she can help it, she won't allow other people to suffer as she did. "But no. I can't be that way, can I? I know this isn't just about us."

She feels Finnick breathe a sigh, almost of relief. It makes her both proud and heartbroken at the same time to have such a husband, who is willing to fight for them and their future. Someone who is willing to fight for them all.

"No, it isn't. But I really _am_ doing this for us… more than anyone else. Because I love you, Annie. You deserve a better life, and I want to give that to you."

Annie moves herself up so she can be face to face with her husband, her green emerald eyes meeting his sea green eyes. "You'll come back to me then, as you promised. Right?"

Finnick smiles before closing the space between them to kiss her lips over and over again, saying "yes" in between breaths.

"Say it again, the poem, just like you do every morning."

This time, Finnick doesn't hesitate. Because this is routine. This is normal. This is not a goodbye.

_Against the tides that push and pull  
>Not one is strong enough to part<br>No force can keep me away from you  
>I will always keep you in my heart <em>

_The strongest wind, the hardest wave  
>Will try to break me, to fall apart<br>But not them, no one can tear away  
>Your love I keep deep in my heart<em>

_Even now, be strong, remember still  
>Believe that I love you<br>Nothing can be more real_

_Believe that I love you  
>Beyond forever and always I will<em>

Three hours later Finnick stands at the door, dressed in all his soldier gear and seemingly ready to take on whatever they have planned for him and his squad, while Annie is back in their bed, laying there watching him, memorizing every movement, every flick of his hair, every expression on his face, especially when he smiles at her. He looks on her one last time.

"I want to remember you this way. It'll give me something to look forward to when I come back," he had said earlier. So, that's what she does. She stays there, looking at him, smiling a sad smile. Even though every part of her wants to run to him and hold him tight and never let go, she will not do that. She will be just as brave as her husband, because that's who he needs right now. A brave wife, one to be strong for him just as he is for her, as the poem says.

"I love you, Finnick Odair." This is about as close to a goodbye as she could probably say without actually saying it. He didn't object. He just looks back at her with a look of what can be perceived as genuine and absolute adoration. It's as if his whole face is radiating love just for her.

"I love you, my sweet Annie Odair. Beyond forever."

With that, he opens the door, walks out, and closes it behind him, only giving Annie a side profile of his face before the door completely closes. They both said what they needed to say, and she gave him that final image of her for him to fill his thoughts with when he needed. He gave her his words, with which she could repeat in her head in just the same way, giving her a reason to smile when she needed.

_I love you, my sweet Annie Odair. Beyond forever._

Even though her heart pounds with an aching sadness, she can't help but smile at the memory.

**x~~~~~~~x**

She couldn't stop shaking. Her heart was pounding so hard it hurt.

Squad Four Five One was lost. Something happened and Beetee lost all communication with them. They probably would've avoided telling her this if she hadn't been walking around hearing all the commotion.

Somehow Johanna finds her wandering around in a haze. "…only lost. We don't know if anything has happened to them yet, Annie." Johanna says more, but Annie doesn't register the words. She doesn't register anything at all. Her Finnick is lost, and so is she.

**x~~~~~~~x**

_Annie._ His voice is smooth and calm as he calls to her. _Annie, my sweet. Please wake up._

She opens her eyes to find his sea green eyes staring back at him. Everything else looks hazy around him, as if he's the only thing in focus. It seems odd, but she dares not look at anything else but him. Just him.

"Finnick?"

_Hi, my beautiful wife. I've missed you. _

"I've missed you so much, too." She wants to wrap her arms around him, but for some reason she can't. It's as if her arms refuse to move. She tries to move her legs, too, but they don't budge. Every part of her feels heavy, too heavy for her to lift. She feels her heart beat faster. "Finnick-"

_You know I love you. I always have. Please be strong for me. Please. _

"I know. I love you, too. Help me… I can't move-"

_I love you, my sweet Annie Odair. Beyond forever. Remember that._

"Finnick… help-" she looks down only a brief second to see what could possibly be holding her down, but there is nothing keeping her arms and legs from moving. When she looks back up, the sea green eyes of her husband no longer stare back at her. Finnick has disappeared.

Suddenly, the real memory hits her, and she feels her stomach churn.

She jolts up, awake in her bed. Not _their_ bed. Annie is back in the hospital again.

The tears started in the dream and have not stopped. Her whole body shakes with overwhelming sadness. The announcement of Finnick's death is still fresh in her mind. Snow was victorious in his speech. He was heartless.

She must have been saying something in between sobs, because someone tries to tell her that it could be a lie. That they don't know if it's true since it was Snow that said it. But Annie is certain more than ever now, after her dream, that her husband – her Finnick – is dead.

She screams louder than she ever has before, unable to utter actual words through her cries of sorrow. Annie doesn't know how to stop the pain, doesn't know how to stop her heart from hurting her with every single beat. Her whole body feels like it's being crushed under an invisible force and she is too weak to stop it.

Suddenly, she is overcome with nausea, and her body reacts, retching from all her sobbing. She vomits on the floor, not caring enough to tell them how much her throat burns as she continues to mourn for her only love. They try to hold her, she presumes, to prevent her from falling over or maybe even intentionally hurting herself, she doesn't know which. But she knows she cannot hurt herself more than she is hurting already. They could torture her like they did Johanna or Peeta in the Capitol prison and it wouldn't hurt as much as it does right now.

Snow has already taken everyone from her.

She thinks back to their last conversation before he left.

_Please, please, please! I change my mind. I want to be selfish. Please don't go, Finnick. _

But in her permanently damaged and aching heart, she already knows, it is too late. There is nothing left but the pain.

**x~~~~~~~x**

She stares at him from her bed. He stands there in the corner of her hospital room. It's just as she remembered him when they were still in District 4. His bronze hair, slightly messy from being out on the boat, flows around his head, as if blown by a breeze, but there is no breeze underground. His sea green eyes bright, and his pupils large as he stares back at her, smiling.

She smiles back before realization hits her that he isn't really there. But that doesn't stop her from wishing it every time she imagines him in her haze. So she continues to look at him, because as long as he's around, she'll choose to be in this haze. Even if it means not eating, or not sleeping.

She would rather forego sleep anyway, because images of him in her dreams tend to change into nightmares of his death. She doesn't know how he died as no one knows, so her subconscious finds its own version and reenacts it for her, sometimes in such a gruesome manner as to make her sick enough to keep her in the hospital.

He's still there, standing in the corner. She wants him to come closer, so she hold him, but something is keeping him at bay. Then he begins to open his mouth, as if to talk.

_Annie, you need to listen to him._

_Who?_

_The doctor. It's important._

_What doctor?_

That's when she hears it. At first it just sounds like a soft and low mumbling, but as the mumbling gradually gets louder and more comprehensible, she slowly comes out of her haze as well, and she finally realizes that the doctor Finnick was referring to is standing right beside her bed. Just beyond him is the corner that she had just seen Finnick at not a moment ago.

"…would be best for you to stay here for a while, Annie."

"What?"

The doctor looks at her with concern before opening his mouth to answer. "Annie, I'm sorry for your loss. I truly am, but we need to get you on a regular diet now," he says. She looks into his eyes. They are weary and dark from lack of sleep. She wonders if he's lost someone, too. "We've had to keep an eye on you since…that day. You've been losing weight recently and we ran a few tests just to find out if there was something more to why that is, to make sure that you weren't physically ill… and…well, do you know why you've been sick lately?"

She ponders his words for several seconds. She doesn't know how long she's been in the hospital. From what the doctor has just said, it could have been several days, even weeks. The loss of Finnick brought back her hazy moments, losing track of time, she knows that much, not that time mattered to her anymore. There was no reason to keep track of it anyway, nor was there any will to fight the haze when Finnick was in there. But for some reason, the vision of Finnick this time, and the illusion that he was speaking to her to listen, brought her back to reality and kept her there to hear what the doctor had to say. And she did.

_It can't be_, she thinks. _Can it?_

_It can. _She can't see him now, but doesn't need to to know when Finnick is speaking.

"Tell me," she says to the doctor.

"Well, it does seem that you are pregnant, Annie."

_This is your future, Annie. _

_Our future, _she corrects.

She doesn't know why, but even though he is gone, he is still with her, and she doesn't want to question it. She doesn't care if she _is_ crazy now, especially when he looks so much like he's physically there.

"…under the strain of everything. We hope you understand that staying here in the hospital is best option for you… and the baby growing inside of you, at least for now."

Annie nods in agreement before the doctor leaves, her face an expression of disbelief, but not of sorrow. The emotional pain of loss is still there, but now, to know that she's carrying a baby inside her, gives her a new reason to fight through her grief.

She closes her eyes and slowly, she can see her lying together in their bed, facing him as they did in the mornings after their wedding day. Annie smiles.

"Our future," she says to him out loud. Finnick smiles back.

The struggle would be tremendous, she knows. But she knows that even though Finnick would never physically be there for her again, he didn't break his promise. Not really. A part of Finnick was always with her, both in her heart, and now in the life that's growing inside her.

She remembers the last lines of the poem, in his voice, and smiles.

_Even now, be strong, remember still  
>Believe that I love you<br>Nothing can be more real_

_Believe that I love you  
>Beyond forever and always I will<em>

"I miss you, Finnick, so much," she whispers to her husband. A tear, one of many before it, runs down the side of her face, as she gives a bittersweet smile to her vision of him. "I understand that I can't keep losing myself in my mind just to see you. I do, but I just miss you. I don't think I ever will. But I guess I have to control myself. Because I have our child to raise now."

Annie looks down at her belly and gently places her hand there. "I have to eat more. I don't even know how long it's been since my last meal. I'm sorry. I will take care of myself. I know you'd be upset if you actually could see me right now, so sorry."

She grabs the cup of water that's been sitting on the table next to her bed, and sips. It's a start.

"I so can't wait to tell our baby about you and what you did for us. I don't know what else to say right now but 'thank you, Finnick.' Thank you for choosing to love me beyond forever. I will never stop loving you. And I promise to love our child enough for the both of us."

With her final vow, she closes her eyes and sleeps with hope in her heart once again.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_ **Thanks go to those who were patient enough to get this far. I do apologize for not sending the past few chapters out in a timely manner, but especially this one. I've added a few other projects to my daily routine that's kept me super busy. But the main reason was that I had to care for my sick dog, which I ended up putting down. So having to write this chapter along with dealing with my own emotions was quite daunting to say the least. I'm not sure how satisfied I am with this chapter myself, as I probably could've expanded on some of the interactions further, but then that would mean having you all wait even longer considering I probably wouldn't be giving it as much attention in these next few weeks due to the holidays, so there you have it. It's about as satisfactory as I can get it at this point.**

**I will try to have the Epilogue out sometime in the next couple of weeks, if not sooner. Thanks again, and I welcome positive feedback and constructive criticism.**

**The poem is an original and does not go by any standard metric pattern. As Finnick would say, they were just words "put together in a desperate moment."**

**By the way, I know that for some of you, it may seem that the Annie I've written is weak and pathetic and a girl who can't seem to do anything on her own. However, I don't see her that way (not that you're not entitled to your own opinion, of course.) She was utterly broken with loss and guilt, I believe more so than Katniss, especially because she really did not have anyone one else close in her life anymore, and until you're in that situation, you really don't know what it can do to you. I also believe she is just as strong as Finnick, if not just a bit more so, in the emotional sense because after all that, she will continue to live on. Granted, she may have a little help with an imaginary Finnick, but we all have our vices. ;)**

**So, give thanks for all that you have in your life. Cherish those you love and take advantage of every sunset/sunrise and just smile. Happy Thanksgiving!**


	34. Chapter 33 - EPILOGUE

_**DISCLAIMER: Characters established from The Hunger Games trilogy are property of Suzanne Collins, the author and creator. No copyright infringement is intended. **_

_**TIMELINE: Events take place after Mockingjay.**_

_**CHAPTER NOTES: This is the Epilogue of Annie and Finnick's story, so it is completely separate from the Mockingjay epilogue. **_

_**CHARACTERS FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER – Finnick Odair, Annie Cresta, Turlach Odair*, Mrs. Everdeen, Charlene Odair*  
>* = Original Characters<br>**_

_**ADDITIONAL NOTES: Rating is T **_

* * *

><p>EPILOGUE<p>

**Year One**

Annie could see it. She looks into those little eyes and she can see him in the shape of the little baby's face. He was bound to be the most beautiful baby she had ever seen, and she is determined to have him grow up as loving and caring as his father by sharing who he was.

She doesn't know if it is tears of joy or tears of sorrow that overwhelm her soon after the delivery. Most likely it's both, along with a tinge of everything else that had happened to her in the past five years, but either way, it is enough for the doctor and nurses to give her a sedative to help her sleep it off.

That night, she dreams of him and their baby. Finnick holds him in his arms and smiles, gently kissing his son on his forehead, and then he looks at her and says, "I love you both. I know you'll be a wonderful mother."

She has no nightmares that night. The next morning, she wakes up remembering that dream, and in that moment, she resolves to be just what Finnick foretells – a wonderful mother. Annie then vows to fight those moments of haziness, because she needs to be there for her son. It would be hard, and she would have moments when the haze is stronger, but she knows she could prevail, because somehow, in the middle of the night, it's as if Finnick's words seep into her heart and mind and become her words.

In the weeks that follow, she receives many congratulations in the form of letters and small gifts from people all over Panem. Many of them she doesn't even know. They know of her and Finnick from the history of the Games and from Plutarch's television programming, and now they know of her baby.

One of the letters comes from someone she had not really known that well and is surprised to hear from at all. She opens it cautiously, wondering if she really wants to read it. At first she doesn't know why she is wary about it, and closes her eyes, trying to calm the rapid thumping of her heart. She takes a breath and opens the letter to read what Gale Hawthorne has to say.

_Hello Annie. _

_You might not remember me. I don't think we really talked that much when we were in District 13, but I knew your husband. We were in the same squad together. I don't really think there's anything I could say to make up for your loss, but I wanted to let you know that I'm alive today because of him. _

_I'm sorry I never told you this before now. I only just realized how self-absorbed I've been lately, and when I heard about your baby being born, I realized that I needed to let you know. This seemed the best way to go about doing it, partly because I don't think I'd say it right if I were to call. _

_Anyway, I just wanted you to know that Finnick was a great __man to have on our squad. Like I said, he saved my life. It could've easily been me that died, but he stood between me and death and made me escape. And I did. _

_I don't blame you if you hate me for it. I already do myself. He had you to come back to, and a baby. As I go over the scene in my head, I sometimes wish I could've been the one to tell him to go, to help the others and be a hero. But wishing that would be like dishonoring what he did. Still, it's something that I will probably never fully accept as okay. _

_I obviously didn't know him as well as you, or even some of the others in our squad. But I will never forget what he did for me, for all of us in the squad. I just hope that can give you some peace of mind that Finnick was a brave man and obviously loved you more than anything else. I hope that your son will grow to be just as admirable as his father. _

_With utmost respect,_

_Gale_

Annie can't stop the tears from falling down her cheeks any more than she can stop the blood flowing into her heart. But after several minutes, she pulls herself together, fearing that if she doesn't, she would be stuck in a haze that takes her out of reality, and she can't afford to do that anymore.

Her son won't be able to go with her there. And she needs to be where her son is.

**x~~~~~~~x**

**Year Five**

"Turlach, remember to stay away from the edge," she tells her son.

"Okay, mommy," he replies in his small voice as he steps back to assure his mom he is doing just as she told him. He always does.

Annie looks on at her son as she anchors the boat. A couple of years after Turlach's birth, she had decided to try going out on a boat on her own. She suspected it was because of witnessing the wedding of Katniss and Peeta that she felt more optimistic about being able to overcome a lot of what scared her in the past. Besides, she wanted her son to be able to experience being out in the water just as his father did.

Only when she was completely confident in her ability to handle the boat did she bring her son with her. That was a year ago. They go out as often as they can, and the days that they can't, they go to the beach. Those are the times she feels the most relaxed. But out in the open water is when she feels alert enough that she can think about Finnick, often times talking to him as if he is there. Most of the time she talks about their son, how much he is growing, or how fast he is learning just about everything.

Sometimes she invites Mrs. Everdeen to go on the boat with them. Mrs. Everdeen, or as Annie came to learn her first name, Gwyneth, was adamant about going anywhere near the water at first, since she didn't know how to swim, and was actually quite fearful for Turlach being on the boat as well. She eventually convinced her by lots of coaxing and presenting Gwyneth with a life jacket.

It takes about six months after she started going out in the water that Gwyneth finally gives in, both out of curiosity and the need to take a break from her long hours at the hospital. Gwyn only goes out a handful of times, but Annie can see she is getting comfortable with being out there. So, when Annie asks her to come with them to celebrate Turlach's birthday, Gwyn agrees without hesitation.

"Stay here close to me, Turlach. You can protect me," says Gwyn to her surrogate grandson.

Turlach immediately moves close to her and reaches out to put his little hand in hers. "Are you scared, Gamma?"

"Not anymore," she says as she smiles down at him.

"Don't be scared. You have a lifesaver on like me!" he explains as clearly as he can, pointing at Gwyneth's bright orange life jacket. He speaks as well as a kid twice his age, with only a slight lisp.

Annie smiles to herself, watching them as "Gamma" reaches down to wrap her arms around Turlach in a bear hug as she finishes anchoring the boat. This is about all they will do today. Spend time having lunch and relaxing on the boat in their own private picnic.

She cherishes days like this, just as she did before with Finnick, sometimes with Mags in tow.

She looks at her son, and sees how beautiful his eyes brightly shine green in the sunlight. His hair is still as dark as hers, but she can already see Finnick in his facial expressions. If she thinks too hard about it, though, it will cause a heavy thrumming in her chest.

One time Gwyneth asked her, on a day they were both feeling a bit melancholy, why it was that she didn't name her son after Finnick. It took a minute for Annie to respond, because she never said it out loud before and wondered if she could talk about it without tearing up.

Annie took a big breath and told her of the morning that Finnick spoke to her. Whispered to her was more like it, as he apparently didn't want to wake her. He did not know she was awake already as she kept her eyes closed, but she heard every word he said, about how much he loved her, and how he wanted to name their children after their lost loved ones.

"But you didn't name him after Finnick," Gwyn said.

"No," she paused, her brows furrowed in thought, "I didn't remember what Finnick had said until after… but I think that… to me, Finnick was still so much alive in my thoughts and in my heart, that the Finnick in my head made the suggestion and I agreed with him. So, I named him after Finnick's brother and my father. Turlach Alister Odair."

Gwyn looked at her with a faint smile. A minute later, she asked another question. "Is Finnick still there in your thoughts?"

"He is, but not in the way he was before. When I was pregnant, he dominated my mind constantly. But now that I have Turlach, each day is getting easier for me to not dwell too much in here," said Annie as she pointed to her head. "Our son reminds me that I'm still alive."

Gwyn smiled wider this time. "It definitely shows. You've changed a lot, and for the better. Seeing you like this… it reminds me that it does get easier over time, to overcome the past, to remember the lost instead of mourn them all the time."

Annie saw that it did ease the tension in Gwyneth's face, and she hoped that it would soon be easy enough for her when the time would come that Turlach asks more about his father.

"Mommy," he son calls, bringing her back to the present. She looks at him. "Are you going to talk to daddy now?"

She laughs lightly at him, slightly embarrassed at his suggestion, knowing that Gwyneth doesn't know what Turlach is talking about. Annie looks at her hesitantly and explains her unusual routine. Mrs. Everdeen thinks about it a moment and nods in understanding.

Annie then focuses on her son. "Do you want to talk to daddy with me?"

"Okay, can I tell him it's my birthday?"

Annie and Gwyneth chuckle. "Of course, honey. You can tell him how old you are now."

With that, they speak into the ocean air, against the breeze, telling of the events of the week, with Turlach explaining that he's five years old and that he misses his dad, just like his mom does.

**x~~~~~~~x**

**Year Twelve**

Annie wakes up sweaty and trembling. She had not had a nightmare in some time now, but when she does have them, they shake her to the bone. She feels the cool wetness on her cheeks and groans in frustration. She hadn't cried in years, forcing herself not to when it came to nightmares. That also had taken years to control, to numb herself to. But this one is different. She wonders if she had screamed herself awake. That is one thing she can't control. Sure enough, she can hear Turlach's footsteps just outside her slightly open door.

He doesn't come in, but just stands out there, waiting, listening for any sign of distress. Turlach is familiar with Annie's fitful nights, and she hates that she can't stop the bad dreams from coming, if only for her son's sake. How it must feel to see his mother cry out from nightmares and not be able to do anything about it. Were it the other way around, she would be by his bedside comforting him back to sleep. She did do that when he was younger, but she finds him a much stronger, much more mature boy than a 12-year-old should be.

Her boy is twelve now. It is his birthday today. It can't be a coincidence that she had a nightmare on that particular night. It doesn't matter if the Games no longer exist, the memory of them still linger, holding on to any part of her subconscious, threatening to break her again and again. Over the years, she learned to control them, but again, it was the dreams that got her. So, of course it would happen on this night, when she remembers what turning twelve meant years ago.

The images of her nightmare aren't quite fading fast enough just yet. She remembers standing in the town square with the other surviving female victors. It was weird, because she knew Mags was there, but there were no details in the faces of the others. It didn't bother her in the dream, though. Her eyes were focused on the one boy in the boys section. She couldn't see Finnick's face, but everything about the way he stood and the way he looked from the side or the back told her it was him. There wasn't a glass bowl with all the names to choose from, but someone called his name, because he started walking forward. She called out to him, and when he turned around, she realized it wasn't him anymore. It was another boy. A boy that looked so much like Finnick, he had to be related to him. And she knew why, because this time they called Finnick's son's name. Her son. Turlach. And that's when she screamed.

Being the only District 4 victor left alive keeps memories of the reaping, the games, her torture, Finnick's death, everything that was wrong, in the forefront of her mind. There are also the good memories. The beach, Finnick's sea green eyes, their wedding, Turlach's birth, too, sometimes they would twist during her times of slumber.

Twelve years ago is too significant in her life, and though she has friends in other districts who can understand what she is going through, she has to deal with these moments on her own. Mrs. Everdeen isn't even around anymore for her to talk to, as Gwyneth was called to help out in the hospital in District 2. That district was the last one to be completely free from all the fighting and devastation it had suffered. Even after the war, there were still small insurgent groups that refused to accept the way things had changed. But she had made it through those times, and so had her son.

"Turlach?" she whispers, knowing that he can hear her. She sees him hesitate at the door, turning his head slightly in. She smiles sleepily. "It's okay. You can come in." She sees the relief in his face as he walks in with more confidence.

"You okay, mom?" His eyes are full of worry, which is always the case after nights like this.

"I'm fine. Just a bad dream. I'm sorry I woke you." She bodes him to sit on the bed next to her. When he does, she smiles again at him and gently touches the top of his head, running her fingers through his dark hair first before pulling him close for a hug. She can feel his small, but strong arms wrap around her.

"You didn't wake me, mom. I was just about to go for an early swim."

For a minute, her heart beats fast, the remnants of her nightmare giving her unnecessary fear. He had been going out for swims on his own about a year now. Nothing is going to happen to him. She isn't the only one who watches over him and teaches him how to be out in the water. Many of those in District 4 who were still alive after the war had eventually grown fond of Turlach, seeing the beauty and the utmost sincerity in him. She restarted her life in District 4 with no one, but now everyone is her friend, including Pearson, the former Head Peacekeeper. So many things had changed in the past twelve years, and there was practically nothing to fear anymore.

So, she takes a deep breath and reminds herself of just how good a swimmer Turlach is now. He even teaches the smaller kids in the district how to swim. And just as the older fisherman taught him, he knows how to fish with nets, too.

She lets her arm slack and Turlach sits back up and faces her. Annie can't help but move the strands of hair away from his forehead. She had remembered how often Finnick had done that for her.

"You look so much like your father."

Turlach smiles a little. "So you tell me, mom."

"Well, it's true. It's almost… well, you just remind me of him so much." Turlach looks at Annie with a slight frown, almost too subtle to notice, but she does. "What?"

"Is that why you—sometimes you don't look happy, like right now. Do I—do I remind you too much of him?"

She lets out a small gasp in surprise. She only just realizes what it must sound like to him. That looking at him would make her sad because he reminds her of Finnick. She tilts her head in sympathy for her son.

"Oh honey, no. I mean, yes, you remind me of him, but not too much. I do miss your father sometimes, but it's been so long ago now that most of the time, I only remember the good things about him. That's why you remind me of him. He was the gentlest and most loving person I had ever met. I'm only sad that you never got to spend time with him. Turlach, he would be so proud of you if he were alive today." She cups the side of his face. "So proud. And I am, too. I love you, okay?"

"I love you, too," he murmurs. Even though no one else is in the house, he says it as if to avoid from anyone else hearing him. She laughs to herself. _Boys._

She starts to get up out of her bed when her son looks as if he is about to say something and isn't sure.

"What's wrong, Turlach?"

"Uh, well, umm, can I ask you what you were having a bad dream about? I heard you. You said dad's name… then you said mine."

She never really talks about her nightmares to anyone. She doesn't like trying to pull out the memories from her subconscious, sometimes because they turn out worse than what had actually happened. There were times, not so much now but when Turlach was still a baby, when she had dreamed about Finnick's death. Even though she wasn't there and she never asked for details, she had a feeling her nightmares on the matter were worse than the real thing. She always dreamed that he was being tortured, being made to stay alive while they did whatever they wanted to him. Sometimes Snow was in the picture, but that was a ridiculous thought. No, she didn't know if she could ever talk about those bad dreams. But what about this one? Nothing had even happened, or at least nothing violent. The reaping scene played out fairly clearly in her mind. The thought made her shudder.

One of the things she knew about Turlach's education is their teaching of the Hunger Games. When she first heard they were going to teach that, she wanted to take Turlach out of school. But Gwyneth, as much as it saddened her to think about them as well, felt that maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to let the children understand their history and how it came to an end, seeing the effects of it all. It ended up being one of the most interesting subjects in the children's history portion of their education that many of the kids tried to befriend Turlach just because he was the son of a two victors, one being a hero.

Of course, Turlach took it all in stride, not letting the popularity of it all get to his head. And yes, the history class taught them that Finnick was one of the soldiers in Squad 451. Everyone knew about Squad 451, because if they didn't hear about it in school, Plutarch's special programs on that specific squad were bound to air at least 4 times a year.

She wonders if she should explain her dream. It might scare him to know what her dream was about, especially since it is his birthday. But she knows he is more mature than the average 12-year-old. She can't deny that fact.

Annie looks at him, in his sea green eyes and notes how they seem to brighten at that moment, as if waiting in anticipation for what she is going to say.

"Sorry, honey. I think your turning 12 affected me a little."

"Why?"

"Well, how much do you know about the Games?"

The brightness in Turlach's eyes seems to fade, growing somewhat darker in concentration before a look of understanding washes over his face. She knows he is smart enough to figure it out.

"Did you dream about the reaping?"

Annie nods, pursing her lips before drawing out a long sigh. "Even though we haven't had to deal with something like that since before you were born, it doesn't stop my mind from going there, especially now that you've reached that age… where you would qualify for the Games."

There is a long silence before either can speak again, but his hand holds hers, helping her feel safe.

"I miss him," says Turlach.

Annie looks at her son, confused. But he had never met his father. Sure, he had said when he was younger, when he didn't know better. But now. "Sweetheart—"

"Sorry mom. I don't know why I said that. But it's kind of weird. I've never met him, but the way I feel when I think about him… it's kind of how I felt about Gamma Gwyn when she left. Like I miss him."

Annie can't help but pull her son to her again, kissing the top of his head. "Don't be sorry about missing him. We can miss him together."

That afternoon, they celebrate his birthday by going out on the boat, anchoring where they normally anchor. They eat dinner and specially made sweet bread delivered from Mellark's Bakery in District 12 – a gift from Peeta and Katniss. And as they have done every year for his birthday, they speak into the wind – Annie to the husband she still sees in her memories, Turlach to the father he always looks up to.

**x~~~~~~~x**

**Year Twenty-Six**

When she thinks about it, it makes her laugh.

Being a grandmother at 46. Oddly, it sounds so young an age to be called a grandmother. Yet, that's precisely what she is going to be.

Annie walks around the hospital. For some reason, she just can't sit down. She isn't sure if it's nerves or excitement, but she isn't going to just wait for the baby to be born, whenever that is going to happen.

So, she walks. The odd thing is that she didn't remember walking outside of the hospital and standing in front of a memorial in the middle of the square. Annie knows it is there. They erected the memorial on the war's 10th year anniversary. It's a reminder of what can happen with just a spark, just an image. The Mockingjay.

The Mockingjay itself is about one-third of the 20 foot tall monument. Most of the rest of it makes up the rectangular cement base. Three sides of the base is covered with bronze plates listing all 1800 tributes from each and every year that the Hunger Games existed. Each victor labeled as such next to their name. The fourth side, also covered with a bronze plate, lists the 150 tributes from District 4 specifically. Each district had their bronze plate specifying the victors from that district. She eyes her husband's name on the list. She doesn't bother to look for her name. Whoever was in charge with creating the monument made it a point to have Finnick's name stand out even more among the rest. It was the first name listed and in all capital letters. Not only did it have him labeled as "Victor", but underneath his name was the label "Star Squad 451".

When she first saw it, she laughed. People around her thought she was going mad again, probably worried that she was overwhelmed with tragic memories from the Games and the war. But that wasn't what brought about her fit of giggles. Her thought back then was an image of Finnick's reaction to his name in big bold letters. She imagined his face squinched up and it made her laugh. The last thing he would've wanted at that point was to actually stand out. That part of him was all for the Games.

"They meant well, Finnick," she whispers into the calm night.

It takes her a breath to realize that someone is calling out her from the hospital. A nurse is urging her to come back. It's time.

**x~~~~~~~x**

She looks at him, cradled in her arms. He reminds her of Turlach when he was just born. Things back then were so emotionally overwhelming for her, given that she had controlled her sorrow in the months between Finnick's death and Turlach's birth. Only until after Turlach was born did she allow her body to mourn for her husband.

"Do you have a name for him yet?" She tears her eyes away from her grandchild to look at her son and her lovely golden-haired daughter-in-law, Charlene, who looks weary but happy. Turlach smiles at his mom.

"Mom, we wanted to ask you first if it was okay, because… well…," he takes a deep breath before continuing, "we want to name him after dad."

She gasps in shock. Her eyes widen so much there's a look of concern on both Turlach and Charlene's faces.

"If you don't want-" she can hear the slight disappointment in his voice, but the corners of her mouth immediately turn upward.

"No, I _do_ want! Oh Turlach, that's wonderful!" She moves close to her son to hold his hand. "Someone should take his name. It's perfect that it would be his grandson to do so." She doesn't realize the tears running down her cheeks until Turlach wipes them from her face.

"We hoped you would feel that way," says Charlene.

Annie moves to the side of her bed and reaches down to hold her hand now. "Thank you, Char. You've made both me and my son happy. You're going to be a great mother." Finnick's voice echoes in her head, reminding her of the same words said to her. She turns to look at her son. "And you're going to be a great father."

"And you, mom, are going to be the best grandmother." She can see the gleam in his eyes, the joy reflecting in them. An image of Finnick flashes in her head, and she can't help but smile back at the resemblance. She looks down at the baby still sleeping in her arms, cuddled in a soft blanket.

"Finnick Odair, you are so beautiful… just like your father… just like your grandfather."

She didn't think it was possible to feel as much joy and love as she felt on her wedding day, but the little baby boy in her arms makes her realize without a doubt how wrong she is. And she's happy about that.

When Turlach was born, her happiness was interrupted by the bittersweetness of her husband not being by her side. Back then she was so doubtful of her ability to overcome her fears of being a caring, loving, and attentive mother. After all that had happened to her, it was no surprise she would feel that way. And yet she had done her job as a mother, successfully at that. She can't deny she still sought comfort in the images of Finnick during rough patches of raising him, or when times of loneliness crept in despite all the friends that surrounded and supported her.

But she learned to control her thoughts, never letting herself go too far into the haze that was so tempting to dwell in before. She was finally able to see the good in the true world, her son dominating most of that goodness.

Now, there is yet another reason to accept the life she has, another reason to stay in this reality. And she's holding that reason in her arms.

"Finnick Odair," she says his name again, accepting it as the name of her grandson, and not only of the one whom she lost years ago.

"Actually mom, it's Finnick Turlach Odair," her daughter-in-law corrects.

Annie doesn't hesitate for a second. "Perfect. It's as it should be," she says. Her grandson now carries the name of three men – his father, his grandfather, and his great uncle. And it makes sense to her. She looks at her son, who stands there glowing with so much joy. She could imagine so easily how her Finnick would look at this moment just by looking at her son.

"It's only right your name be included," she says to her son.

Turlach can only smile, his eyes shining wet with unshed tears.

Finnick Turlach Odair would certainly have a lot to live up to, but she would make sure that this little boy would learn of each one of them, and how their love brought things full circle.

**x~~~~~~~x**

Later that night, as Annie sleeps, she dreams of her husband.

He smiles bright at her. His sea green eyes wide with pride and joy as he wraps his arms around her the way he did so many times before. Her hair flows in the warm ocean breeze as they stand on the beach together.

The sunset is perfect in its shades of orange, red, and yellow. The water's tide is low and calming, almost perfect in its reflection of the sun on the horizon. It's as if the sun intends to stay as long as they need it to.

He speaks to her, his voice is just as she remembers it, soft and comforting and full of love. She feels her body relax in the feel of his touch and the look in his eyes. She has not felt this good in a long time.

"_You did it, my sweet. I knew you could."_

"_It was your faith in me that helped me through. Your words. Your images…" _she tells him. Annie turns and sees her son, his wife, and their baby standing there, looking at them. _"They're beautiful."_

Annie turns back to see Finnick and she's suddenly overwhelmed by the beauty of him. His bronze hair being highlighted by the sun, his sea green eyes wide and content, his smile welcoming.

"_Of course they are. They're from us,"_ her Finnick says in such a way that is nowhere near like the self-centered Finnick that Panem had lusted over.

Turlach, Charlene, and baby Finnick are now right next to them. Turlach hands baby Finnick to his dad. Finnick smiles at son first, and then looks down at the grandson in his arms. No words are said, because no words are needed. Annie can see it in each and every one of their eyes.

As Annie wakes, she feels it. She knows. Somehow, her Finnick has always been there for her, for them all.

She's not ready to leave this world, the world that she once didn't think she could bear without him. But there is still a full life yet to be had and she plans on seeing it through, to experience more of her family.

_I love you, my Annie. _

The image of the three men in her life flash before her, as clear as anything real. No pain, just love.

No, she's not ready to leave yet, but when the time comes, her final hope is that she somehow reunites with Finnick again in whatever is on the other side.

Annie stands on the bow of her boat, her face to the wind.

"I love you, too," she assures him as well as herself. "I will be with you again after this. I promise."

Another warm breeze pushes the hair away from her face.

She smiles, full of hope, more than ever, for her family and the future they all have.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN:**_** Well, it has been a long journey to get to this point. A lot longer than I planned, but at least it's complete! Regardless of the reception of this ending, I'm glad I accomplished that much. **

**With that said, I hope you did enjoy the journey, and if you didn't, I apologize for the story not being what you wanted it to be. As it is, despite maybe some of it feeling like filler chapters throughout the story, this epilogue is just about as good as I want it to be, so I'm satisfied. **

**As you know, Mrs. Everdeen was never given a first name in the actual trilogy, so I created one for her. I just never imagined that if Annie and Mrs. Everdeen were friends, Annie could keep calling her "Mrs. Everdeen," right? **


End file.
